Quid Pro Quo
by Anon8043
Summary: After Bellwether is arrested, Nick finds that he doesn't know what to do next, instead just putting one paw in front of the other. Confronted with the knowledge that his 20 years of being alone cannot protect him from a certain rabbit's winning smile, he finds himself in a deal to talk about the past that he never put into words. / cover by Red Velvet Panda
1. You're light as a feather

_5:37 pm, September 13th_

* * *

The main hall of the Natural History Museum thundered as mammals of all sizes made their way around to all corners of the room. Their movements made all too frantic by the bellowing cape buffalo barking orders at every single officer. He pointed and swiveled on the spot, his expression set into that of complete contempt for the situation at paw. "Rhinowitz, Fangmeyer, get down to Banyon Street ten minutes ago! Wolford, where's that ladder!" The furious buffalo stomped his foot on the ground and continued to everyone that could hear, "And for God's sake, somebody find a goddamn janitor's cart or something so we can walk Bellwether out of here without anybody taking pictures!"

Chief Bogo tore his radio off of his belt and fiddled with the dials as he kept on bellowing. "Higgins, Grizzoli, I want a team down in that tunnel to put out that car right now! I want _something_ to be left over for forensics. When they get there, tell them to comb through every single inch of that station. I want those teeth to be _fine_ , do you hear me?" He brought the radio up to his face and spoke in a restrained volume, still seething with rage. "Dispatch, this is Chief Bogo. 10-63."

"10-4, Chief. Go ahead." The static-laden voice responded after a short few seconds.

"Dispatch, I need an APB on three suspects. Rams, all of them. Two sandy brown, one charcoal. Stand by for further details. Last known locations are between the Savanna Central and Banyon Street stations, on the tracks. Officers Fangmeyer and Rhinowitz are en route to the Banyon Street station. I want officers on every tunnel exit between Watering Hole and Prairie, I do _not_ want those two mammals to slip through our grasp. One ram is likely still on the bridge just west of Savanna Central station. I want a bird in the sky _yesterday_ , do you copy?" Bogo looked up from his radio after lifting his massive hoof off of the transmitter. "Wolford! If you do not have a ladder here in _five seconds_ -"

"10-4, Chief. Standing by for suspect descriptions."

Judy hissed in protest as Nick's attention was drawn away from the intimidating scene developing on the lip of the exhibit. His attention was again fully on the makeshift bandage he was holding around a small bunny's leg. She writhed under his firm grasp he had around her thigh. Nick peered up at Judy's face as he eased the pressure he had over her wound only slightly. Her ears were laid back completely as she took shallow breaths to control herself, amethyst eyes focused straight ahead. "If you really want to bleed out, you can just tell me," he breathed nonchalantly. Nick was now doing his best to ignore the increasingly irritated voice of Bogo as he continued to bark orders.

Judy strained a smile, looking up into Nick's eyes. The smile might have been halfway genuine, but it did little to hide how much her leg obviously hurt. "Tempting, but I still have a case to finish."

Nick scoffed, not impressed in the slightest. Instead he turned his gaze back up to the edge of the exhibit they were trapped in. "If you ask me, it looks like it's _his_ case now."

She chuckled dryly at that. "Yeah, well he _did_ just arrest the mayor of Zootopia and a couple other cops. He probably wants the whole thing to be court ready before anybody can even get back to the station." She sighed as she leaned back into the fake rock she was sitting on. "Even if she is dead to rights, the press is going to have a field day if we don't tie up every loose end by the press conference." Judy closed her eyes and tried to focus on anything but her injury. "The Lionheart debacle was bad enough, and they had the whole night to form a statement."

Nick, seeing his chance, took the opportunity to get another look at the cut. Sliding his paw down her thigh towards her knee, he slowly lifted the red cloth handkerchief off her leg. The cut was bad, but not life threatening. The bleeding had almost completely stopped, and it didn't look deep enough to do any real damage to the muscle. Still, stitches were a certainty, and she wasn't going to be running on it anytime soon. Satisfied, he removed his paw from her thigh completely and replace the piece of cloth. He didn't even seem to care that his handkerchief was soaked with blood, the pine tree situated at the corner of the cloth almost completely obscured. "You know," he started in a smug sort of tone. "Maybe the case _will_ be court ready by the time we get out of this exhibit."

Judy's expression did not change. Instead, she sighed again. Nick just watched her, abandoning his attempt to provide levity for the situation. "I can't believe it was her," she breathed out in a long whisper, her nose twitching in disappointment. "Of all the mammals..."

Nick returned his attention to her leg and inspecting the cloth, forcing himself not to stare at her nose. "Never judge a book by its cover, Carrots. It goes both ways." He was kneeled in front of her, his left leg angled so that he could lay Judy's injured leg over it. Her foot twitched at every movement he made with her. "If you ask me, it's always the helpless looking ones. It's the best con in the business."

Judy clicked her tongue off of her enormous buck teeth, disapproving of his matter-of-fact tone. "I thought you just said don't judge a book by it's cover."

"She fooled me, didn't she?" He said, looking up at her still closed eyes. "I haven't gotten to the point of assuming every meek mammal is secretly one of the most ruthless animals around, but after the past half hour, I think I'm finally there."

She snorted a half laugh, half grunt of pain. "Does that mean you think _I'm_ secretly one of the most ruthless animals around?"

"Two things wrong with that, Fluff." She lifted her head to gander at his wild posturing. He sprung one of his clawed fingers into the air dramatically. "One, you are, by far, the least meek mammal I have ever seen. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure you've got a gentile side-" Nick's voice was caught as her other foot smacked him across his right side playfully. "But I just don't think 'meek' is in the cards for you. Sorry to break it to you."

Judy gave a pained giggle at that before lying back into the rock with one paw over her eyes. "Say it isn't so, Nick!" She went on in a sarcastic tone, "What will all of the other bunnies think of me? I can't go on like this! Just lift the bandage up and let me bleed out!"

Nick's indifferent smile broke into genuine amusement. "I already said you could just tell me." He had settled his other paw back onto her leg, abandoning his attempt to keep track of his two reasons. He looked back down at the bandage for no particular reason. "And two..." He started in a slow whisper. His voice low as he continued, as if he didn't want anyone but Judy to hear. "Nobody could ever call you ruthless... Not after coming back." Nick lifted his eyes towards her face and saw she was staring back at him blankly. Judy's expression tensed into a pained look, but not because of her leg. Her rich, amethyst eyes betraying her sad thoughts.

She shifted her gaze away, looking at anything other than Nick or her leg. "Yeah, well," she started indignantly. "It took me long enough." She squirmed on the false stone before lying back into it and closing her eyes again. "I still can't believe it was her."

Nick could spot someone trying to change the subject halfway across the city, and this was no different. He raised his eyebrow as he thought about what to say. He knew she felt horrible about the whole thing, but he had hoped she would be a little more joyful about cracking the case. _I can't really hold it against her, though. Who knows how long she's been blaming herself for the press conference_ , he thought. Still, Nick would honor her attempt and drop it. "She definitely didn't seem the type," he commented disinterestedly. "Even treated me like I wasn't just a fox." _Which, in hindsight, should have been the giveaway_ , he kept to himself. He had definitely lost his edge if being conned so easily was any indication, and he could not figure out how it happened. After two decades on the streets, it should have been clear as day. Yet it wasn't. Thinking back on it, why _hadn't_ he noticed anything? What the hell was he _doing_ , exactly, that he couldn't spot such a ploy? There was _always_ tells when prey couldn't stand predators. A twitch of the eye, ears flickering, smiles just a smidgen _too_ genuine, it's always there. Nick almost scoffed out loud at the thought that he hadn't seen it. He must have been distracted, but by what? It was lost on him.

Both of their attention was captured by a loud bang on the other side of the exhibit. Chief Bogo was staring back at them with Wolford flanking him. "Alright, Hopps," he bellowed down at them. "Let's get you to the hospital so you'll be able to testify."

His lidded eyes met Bogo's, their expressions cold and solid. Bogo's stern intensity and Nick's deceptively lazy smile fought over the air between them. Nick felt like now was an appropriate time to growl, but thought better of it. It hadn't taken him that many years on the streets to control his instinct to growl, yet he found himself fighting it now. Just more evidence that this whole debacle wasn't good for his health. Not that the rest of his life was good for his health.

They stared at each other for a long few seconds, neither of them relenting. Hesitantly, he tore his vision from the Chief of police and back at Judy. She was looking at him with a mixture of confusion and worry written all over her deep, amethyst eyes. He looked her up and down, and huffed out a breath. He removed the soaked rag and wrung it through the air to soften the congealing blood. "This is going to hurt, rabbit. Try to put on a smile so they don't shoot me in the back," he dryly pleaded, half serious. Nick snaked the fabric around her calf, and begun tying the stained red cloth over her cut. "Deep breath, now," he suggested as he pulled the knot down onto her injury. Judy shot upwards into a strained sitting position and let out a cringing breath that hitched in her throat. Despite that, Nick could see her holding a pained, toothy smile over his shoulder. No doubt directed at the two police officers staring daggers into his back.

At some point, she had grabbed onto both of his shoulders, and was inches away from his snout. Her pink plaid shirt brushing against his purple nose. It was impossible for her scent not to invade every corner of his nasal cavity. If it wasn't for her shallow breaths as he tied another knot into the makeshift tourniquet, he would have lingered just a little too long on breathing in the air coming from under her shirt. He made a point of reprimanding himself for the thought. Just another thing he would have to not dwell on today. That list was piling up. Nick inspected his work. Certainly not the best, and he was nowhere near happy with it, but it had all but stopped bleeding already. The important thing now was to get her to the hospital for the real McCoy.

Without giving her any warning, he scooped her up into his arms in one fluid motion. Hooking his left arm under her knees and pulling her out and away from the rock and into his arms as she squeaked. He brought himself up and shook the leg he had been leaning on, waking it up. Judy was grabbing at his shirt and fur around his neck in an attempt to balance herself, her ears flapping around still loose. Once she was settles into his arms he looked down at her. "You okay, Carrots?"

Judy's frantic expression softened somewhat, but she still shot Nick a narrow look. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just warn me next time."

Nick shifted his weight now that Judy was in his arms, daring to take another breath of her scent with the close proximity. She smelled like dirt, produce, synthetic leather, sweat, and blood. All tales of her particularly eventful day, but there was definitely something more. Something he hadn't saw fit to put a name to up until now. It was Judy's smell. "Hang on tight. If we fall off going up the ladder they'll skin me alive for sure. And if I'm being honest, I like having my skin _attached_ to me."

"That's too bad," she hummed up at him as she settled her head into his chest. She reached up with one arm and flung it over his shoulder taking a firm grip on his shirt. "You would have made a very warm coat."

"Not so fast, cottontail," he blew back at her. "That's why I don't want to give it up just yet."

"Oh, yeah," she said as he turned and made his way towards the ladder. He did his best to ignore the pointed glares from the cops above him. "Does that mean you'd be willing to part with it down the line?"

"You wouldn't be able to afford it. Not on your salary."

"Oh, I'll hold you up on that, slick. I can save up," she smiled at him.

Her smiling was something Nick was trying to do, and he was glad it was working. Keep her mind off the pain in her leg was his best bet at the moment. Until they got to the hospital. Then she could get some much-needed pain medication. Then they could... What? Go their separate ways? Nick inwardly frowned, keeping his neutral lidded eyes and smug face the same. No amount of inner turmoil would write itself on him, but that didn't stop him from slowing his pace. Now that the case was over, what _were_ they going to do? She was still a cop and he was still a conmammal. _Add it to the pile, Nick_ , he thought. _You're going to think yourself into a corner. Just focus on the task at paw._

As he reached the base of the ladder, he shimmied her weight into a single arm, cradling his arm around her tail like a seat. His large, clawed paw rested on the small of her back. Judy squirmed uncomfortably at both the pain in her leg and her newly weird position. "Hold on," he reminded her as he brought his now free paw up to grab a rung. The process was slow; having only one arm made the climb awkward, but he soon made it up to the final stretch. Lifting his paw up into the air when he finally made it almost to the top, Chief Bogo grabbed onto his wrist and pulled him up over the precipice of the exhibit and settled him on the floor in front of him. "Thank you for your service, Mr. Police Chief," Nick replied in a mocking tone. He settled Judy back into both of his arms as the Chief snorted at him.

"Shut your mouth, fox." Bogo turned to the wolf that was cautiously watching the exchange. "Wolford, go pull your cruiser up to the steps. Hopps will be out after I have a word." He turned his irritated gaze back onto the pair situated far below his towering figure. Nick could feel Judy retreat further into his arms. He could only guess what he had to say. "If you'll come with me," the massive cape buffalo gestured towards one of the rooms undergoing renovation away from the bustling mass of police officers. Nick made no quip recognizing his tone and simple started walking away from the crowd.

As they settled into their positions facing each other in the cluttered space, Bogo just crossed his arms and bored his vision through the pair. He was huffing every breath in irritation, his nostrils flaring comically. After a short time of thought, he leaned down at them, starting in a firm but quiet tone. "You will listen to what I have to say, because I will only say it once. Both of you. In any and all testimonies or conversations in or outside the public eye, you will confer to the _facts_ that I am about to explain to you. Do you understand?" Bogo watched the apprehensive nodding of both mammals before he was satisfied enough to continue.

He turned his attention to Judy. "Hopps, earlier this morning you called me directly and requested to be reinstated to finish the case, and I accepted. You asked to come to the station and be sworn in immediately, but I told you to conduct the investigation off of any official books for the time being. It is my _official_ opinion that you took a leave of absence, but you weren't terminated, so you didn't have to re-pledge. All of your investigations leading and up until the arrest of Dawn Bellwether was a sanctioned police investigation with full oversight from me. Get your stories straight, and stay consistent. I do not want to know about any misconduct or underhanded methods that you may or may not have used in your investigations. Do I make myself clear, Officer?" He did not wait for her to respond. "Good. If you still wish to quit, you can hand in your papers at the end of the week. As of _this morning_ , you are once again a sworn officer of the law."

Bogo turned his attention to the fox who starred on in an air of curiosity, still maintaining his lidded expression. "You, on the other paw, are a registered police informant." Despite his mask, Nick could not stop his brow furrowing in reaction to the buffalo's almost slanderous remark. "And you have been for months now. Officer Hopps here registered you during the Missing Mammals case, but your papers were lost in records before they could make it into the database. They will find the appropriate documents, including signed papers from yourself, still sealed with my signature, dated correctly in a couple days time.

"You have been working for us in an official capacity under the direct supervision of Hopps and myself. Do not give me that look, _fox_. I would much rather kick your red ass to the curb and forget you exist since your presence makes this ordeal just that much more complicated. Unfortunately for us both, your friend there has made very _public_ declarations of your involvement with the Missing Mammals case. I cannot falsify you out of the report as much as I would like to, because Bellwether's lawyers will spot the weak link before there is even any blood in the water. It'll take them _maybe_ a few days to find _'the rabbit's fox'_ , and when they do they will use you to tear down the case and swear 'police misconduct' up and down the courtroom. I will not have that."

Bogo turned his attention back at the stunned bunny in Nick's arms, and held out his hoof. "Nighthowler," he deadpanned. Judy ohed and shot her small paw into Nick's breast pocket. Nick's expression widened slightly at she fished her paw around the inside of his shirt pocket, brushing against his chest as she searched for the paintball filled with the deadly serum. She brought it out carefully in her padless paws and handed it up to the Chief, holding it with just barely the required force. Bogo held an evidence bag that he retrieved from his belt under the blue marble, and she slowly lowered it into the bag and carefully dropped it the rest of the way. Bogo said nothing as he sealed the plastic and put it in his own breast pocket.

"Recorder," he said in an almost bored tone. Judy scrambled for her pocket this time and handed the small carrot shaped pen over to her once again superior. Bogo snatched to out of her paws leisurely and brought out another bag from his belt. While he was sealing the bag, he did not look up from his activity before continuing. "The chain of custody is going to be _very_ short for this thing. Is there anything else on it I should be made aware of before it goes in evidence?"

Nick and Judy both gave each other sideways glances before she spoke up, clearing her throat before beginning. "No, sir. Pressing the record button erases whatever is on it. It's not exactly high-end. I picked it up in Bunnyburrow at the checkout of a pharmacy."

Bogo snorted. "I don't know why you thought I would care where you got it, but if it's cheap then at least you can part with it."

"A-actually..." Bogo moved his bored expression up to the bunny who was straining a smile. "It's kind of - um. Sentimental?" The Chief's face fell to that of distinct irritation. "A-and if – uh – I could get that back? That would be nice?" She gave him a toothy grin, worry written all over her face.

Clicking his tongue, the Chief turned and began walking out of the cluttered work space. "You're out of luck, Hopps. This little piece is going to be staying in evidence until Bellwether's trial is over." He continued as he moved away further, "Someone will be by the hospital for your full statements. Remember, your stories need to be bulletproof. No holes. No inconsistencies. Do _not_ dick around on this one." He stopped just at the door and turned back to the pair. His face betraying his intense tone. "And fox?" Nick straightened his back, preparing himself for whatever he had to say next. "If you don't want to be registered as an informant, that is your choice. Just be mindful that you will ruin the case against Bellwether, make the recording inadmissible, open up an IA investigation into Officer Hopps' conduct, besmirch my precinct's reputation, _and_ I will _personally_ levy charges on everything that will stick. For every year your fox hide knocks off of Bellwether's sentence, I will add a hundred to yours." His bored expression returned as he straightened up. "Now get yourselves to the hospital," was all he said as he turned and left the room.

The mismatched pair stood there for some time. Both staring at the empty doorway the Chief walked through. It was everything Judy could muster to let out an awkward laugh. "Oh, that's Chief Bogo for you, huh?" She looked up at Nick, noticing his pensive expression and his ears splayed backwards an almost unnoticeable amount. Even though his expression barely changed from his usual smug, lidded gaze, it spoke volumes. The only noticeable differences were his eyes being a tiny bit tighter and his ears slightly back, his permanent grin had not even changed a millimeter, yet she could piece together what he was feeling almost immediately. Her face softened as it dawned on her what this situation meant for him. She shifted her eyes downward, trying to pay more attention to her leg than Nick's steadily waning personal freedom. "I'm... I'm sorry I got you into this mess," she spoke out in a soft whisper. When she looked back up at his face, she saw that he was looking down at her, the same expression still present.

After a few short seconds, his face relaxed. He wasn't happy about the fact that he was open like a book just then. If he really _was_ slipping, he would have to worry about that later. Right now he had more pressing matters to attend to. After that was done, he could have time to reflect on the fact that he had well and truly lost his grip. "No worries, Carrots. I knew what I was getting into when I said I would help this morning." Thankfully, his lidded eyes were back, a lazy smile creeping across his face. "Being blackmailed into working for the cops is one thing, but choosing to do it out of the goodness of my cold, fox heart is another entirely." He brushed off the small thud that Judy made against his chest when she smacked him playfully. It was about time they made it to a doctor, and he started walking towards the exit as he went on. "I filled out that form, didn't I? Wouldn't have done that if I didn't think I could go on the straight and narrow."

"Yeah," Judy trailed off. She looked down at herself curled up in his arms, one paw clutching her leg and the other holding a pawful of Nick's shirt. "I guess you're right."

Nick, recognizing Judy's unsure tone and facial features, decided it was a good idea to reassure her. His "better half" decided it was a good time to remind him that it would be a good idea to drop that subject like a bad habit. In fact, it was high time he dropped the bunny like the bad habit she was starting to become. She had poked more holes in his front of a personality than he thought was possible. She was even starting to relax him enough that she could read his thoughts by the _look on his face_? What the hell was that? _Push it back, Wilde_ , he reminded himself. _Focus._

"I'm serious," he began, prompting her twitching nose to be directed his way once again. He did not look down, instead he watched her out of the corner of his eye as he began to make his way through the chaotic main hall. Passing rushing officers towards the front door. He was now making a fairly laborious effort to do several thing. Keeping his mask pristine, not looking at her twitching nose, being firm but not weird in his embrace, quieting his treacherous thoughts, and trying to ignore all of the sideways glances he was getting from all of the cops in the room being among them. If just one of those things was bothering him, he wouldn't show it. "That's just the thing about it," he shrugged. "Nothing lasts forever."

He probably would have gone on, but his better half won _that_ battle. No point in her knowing things that were none of her business. Even more so the fact that those _things_ were ever more personal. If he could do nothing else, he would make sure the rabbit didn't get any more ideas. He had already made a point figuring out what exactly it was he was going to do after all of this, but nobody had to know he hadn't figured that out yet.

"If you ask me," he eased with the intention of seemingly effortlessly driving the conversation in all of the manageable directions. "I would say that you've struck gold here, Carrots. You got your job back, you solved the case of the century, and you got to get swept off of your feet by a dashing rogue." He peered down at her, his smug smile growing wider as he wiggled his eyebrows.

Judy could do nothing but snort in amusement, though the joke had the desired effect. She released her hold on his shirt and tried to settle into a more natural, comfortable position. That seemed to sate the death that was getting thrown at him by half the eyes in the room to some extent. Still, maybe he could have just let her walk out with a little help. It was amazing to him how the fact that she could still technically walk hadn't crossed his mind. He had instead opted to carry a wounded bunny out bridal style past the entirety of Precinct One. _Boy_ , he started internally. _You really have lost your damn mind, haven't you?_

It wasn't lost on Nick that his hustling days were numbered. In Zootopia, at least. He was quite serious when he said it had effectively come to an end. Sure, he had a few loose ends to tie up before he ducked out for good, but his business ventures were now all officially dead in the water. His current activity not helping that. Having everyone in the police force know his muzzle as _'the rabbit's fox'_ , as the Chief put it, cemented the idea that his life of skirting around the edges of the law was pretty much done in this town. No big deal. His life had taken worse.

 _Taken worse?_ He thought to himself. _Now just what kind of thought is that? Are you forgetting that you were the one to throw two decades of honing your skills in the garbage at the whim of a rabbit? Life didn't take jack. You practically begged it to take it away._ It was regrettably true. If he wasn't keeping up appearances, he would have almost sighed. _He_ had done it this time. No stroke of bad luck or honest mistake was the cause. He chose to do it himself. It was about this time that he was seriously beginning to consider if he had lost his mind in earnest. _We all have our bad day, I guess. Mine just happen to knock me on my ass harder than a freight train._

 _It wasn't all bad_ , he mused. _I guess I technically helped to save the city from a deranged demagogue... I got a pretty good hustle in... And Carrots came back..._ He groaned inwardly at that last part as he walked through the door of the Natural History Museum, an enormous rhino holding it open for them. _Focus_ , Nick reminded himself. Judy called over his shoulder to thank the rhino as he scanned the front steps for a familiar wolf. After spotting him leaning up against his cruiser, Nick paced himself down the steps as to not jostle Judy around too much. They were almost on their way to the hospital, but there was no need in making it worse.

"I take it you're our ride?" Nick looked up at the cop with a lazy smile.

The wolf eyed the fox for a long moment before shaking his head and motioning to the passenger door. "My cab fare is doubled if there's any blood on the seats," he mocked, obviously towards Judy as he distinctly avoided looking at the fox.

Judy giggled in his arms. "I'll try not to," she beamed up her colleague.

"Oh, shucks, Hopps," he huffed, looking away. "You need to be registered as a deadly weapon," he practically whispered as he unlatched the passenger door and held it open for them. Nick stepped up onto the edge of the cruiser and lowered Judy onto the seat sideways, keeping her leg elevated. He gave her one more look over before he was satisfied enough to hop down back onto the concrete.

"I'll take the back," he offered at the confused expression on Judy's face. Before she could protest, Wolford shut the door promptly.

"That's probably a good idea," the wolf breathed at him. Just low enough that Judy couldn't hear him, but Nick's capable ears could. Wolford still made an effort not to look at the fox as he moved towards the back and reached for the back handle. He hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowing in thought. Nick made no move but to watch him. Wolford sighed heavily, closing his eyes. When he opened them, he had turned his head to face Nick. "I just wanted to say..." he hesitated again. "Thank you."

Nick almost didn't register what the wolf had said to him. His smug grin had retracted somewhat, leaving only a slight turn to his lips. He just stood there staring at him, dumbfounded. It took him almost five seconds to formulate some kind of response. "Uh – she really did all of the work."

"Even so," he shot back. "We weren't really there for her... At the station." Nick eyed him, waiting for more to come. "We could see she had been torn up by what she said at the press conference, and we just stood there. We just expected her to get over it." The wolf looked away, staring out into nothing for a moment. When he turned back, his eyes were more purposeful, more sure. "We're – _I'm_ glad she had a friend." With that, he opened the back door and beckoned him inside. Not wanting to dwell on the fact that he just had a heart to heart with a police officer he barely knew the name of, he jumped straight in. When the door closed, he could only think to himself that it had been a long day. And it was still getting longer.

"What was that about?" Judy called back through the metal mesh that separated the back of the cruiser from the front. Nick would be lying if he said that it hadn't been familiar to him.

"Canine stuff, you wouldn't get it," Nick deadpanned back. His sarcasm only evident in the smug expression that came back to him.

"Uh-huh," she commented. Falling silent when the driver side door opened and the wolf plopped down beside her. Nobody said anything as Wolford turned the ignition and pulled away from the museum. They all knew Judy could hear that little exchange, but it seemed everyone was fine with ignoring that fact. Nick just guessed the wolf cop was using it as a pseudo-apology to Judy, not wanting to have to endure the embarrassment of a legitimate apology.

The thought sort of irritated Nick. Especially after she had put so much effort into finding and apologizing to him. Nearly breaking down completely as she poured her heart out. It wasn't totally unexpected, he guessed. After all, what kind of wolf wanted to be seen as the sappy emotional type. A cop wolf, too. Still, Nick couldn't help but be supremely annoyed at the thought that Judy had been working for months on the force completely alone. Her friends letting her just stew in her own guilt. _Shut the hell up, Nick_ , he thought. _You've got nothing you can say about that, remember? You're angry that her –friends– let her stew in her own guilt? Don't make me laugh._ Nick, for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past hour, suppressed the desire to sigh.

Most of the drive to the hospital was quiet. Nobody had any words to say. Judy had taken the time to regale the descriptions of the three rams over the radio to dispatch, and Wolford has asked if he should turn on the sirens so they would get there faster, though Judy had insisted that it wasn't serious enough to warrant disrupting traffic any. A point Nick had to argue with in the only way he knew how, being sarcastically passive-aggressive about it. Wolford had the good sense to stay out of the exchange, only passively listening in. Other than that, the air in the cruiser was silent.

It had taken them barely over ten minutes to roll to a stop outside the front doors of the Zootopia Central Hospital. The Natural History Museum was just south of downtown, and ZooCentral was on the southern edge of that, so using the sirens would have only shaved off a minute or two regardless. Nick had to wait patiently for Wolford to move around the cruiser to open his door. Nick then moved up to the front, opened Judy's door, and reached upwards with his paws. Gratefully accepting Nick's reach, Judy shimmied over to the edge of the seat and wrapped her small arms around his neck so he could pick her up again.

"I'm going back out. There's still the three suspect that we need to round up, and Bogo wants every available officer on the beat," Wolford said as he remained by his vehicle even after the other two made their way towards the door.

"Alright. Thanks for the lift, Wolford. I appreciate it," Judy called back over the scruffy neck she was holding onto for dear life.

The wolf only nodded before turning back for the driver's side door. He pulled out of the parking lot before Nick made it to the glass entrance. Having both of his arms currently occupied, he gestured for Judy to punch the wheelchair access button as they walked past. The wall of cold air was the first thing that hit him. Being in Savanna Central, early September was reasonably warm, but no matter the time of year, ZooCentral always felt like an outdoor café in Tundratown. It was a wonder to Nick how the frigid air wasn't some kind of violation.

"Cheese and crackers, it's cold in here," Judy breathed up at Nick, burying herself into his arms further to stave off the cold.

"You bunnies," Nick chuckled back. "It's not as cold as it feels. Just wait until we can get you a room, and then they'll put you up to snuff. They keep it like this because it's easier on the power bills." Nick continued as he made his way to reception, "Just pray they've got a setting for 'hick farmland', and you'll be fine."

"Oh, har har," she quipped back.

"Officer Hopps?" The pair turned their attention to a female deer walking towards them wearing a nurse uniform. "Judy Hopps?"

"That's me," she replied.

"Chief Bogo said you would be coming. If you'll follow me, we've got a room waiting."

As they followed behind the doe, Nick watched the generic hospital scenery as he passed it by. It was a wonder how they all looked almost exactly the same. You would think you lived in one with just how familiar and generic it all looked. Churches had more variety. At least in churches it was up in the air what kind of flooring they had. In hospitals, he'd double down on an all-or-nothing gamble that the floor would be bland, beige rubber tiling. And he'd win every time.

"This is the one," the nurse said as she came to a stop in front of a door that looked like any other. "We didn't know what to set it to since we didn't know what species of rabbit you are. Any preference?"

Judy made a disappointed face when Nick stepped into the plain patient room, only to find the temperature hadn't changed in the slightest. She glanced up at the underside of Nick's muzzle. "What do you think, Nick?"

Nick turned his head and peered down at the rabbit in his arms, giving her a curious look while still maintaining his trademark smug expression. "Your room, Carrots. I have to go pick up the truck, so you're the one that's going to be stuck in here."

"Oh, the truck!" Judy slapped her forehead in dramatic exasperation before continuing. "I completely forgot about that."

"Not to worry," Nick replied as he sat her down onto the hospital bed. "I'm sure you'll have fun while I am away. Besides, there's no need for you to play musical cars when we get you out of here. Best head straight home." Nick turned to the nurse that was patiently waiting for what to set the thermostat to. "She'll take temperate, if it's not too much trouble."

"None at all," the doe shrugged before moving over to the panel on the wall.

"That reminds me," he turned back to the rabbit that was settling into the bed slightly too large for her. "Do you want me to stop by your apartment to grab some clothes?"

Judy avoided looking at him and made a strained laugh. The ears that had remained limp this whole time looked like they lowered even more. "You see," she trailed off. "I actually moved back in with my parents." She looked up at him, furrowing her brow. "In Bunnyburrow."

"Well, where are you going to go when you're cleared?"

"Um," Judy deliberated. "I was kinda hoping that – if it isn't too much trouble – that maybe I could crash at your place for a day, and some of my siblings could come pick me and the truck up in the morning?"

Nick just stared at her. Darting his piercing green eyes between Judy's amethyst ones. After a moment he turned to the nurse who was obviously trying to make it look like she wasn't paying attention to their exchange. Ignoring her question for the moment, he addressed the nurse. "Is there anything else you need before you go?"

The nurse turned, looking slightly surprised. "Uh, no. I'm going to do some tests and look at the leg, and then I'll be right back with the doctor. I'm going to need some forums signed later, but we'll look at the leg first," she hastily shot, each sentence being quicker than the last. The nurse pointed towards the door, getting the message Nick was trying to send. "I'm going to be right back with some stuff."

Nick nodded as the nurse closed the door behind her. He turned his head back to Judy, who was giving him a worried look. "I shouldn't have asked that," she started, looking away. "I have no right to just expect you to-"

She cut herself off when Nick raised his paw to stop her. "It's not that, Carrots."

Judy's expression grew even more worried as she tried to piece what it could be together. Her face contorted in horror as she thought about one possibility in particular. "If you've got someone at home, and you don't want me in the way, then I can-"

"Fluff," Nick chuckled. "I haven't had a house guest in more than twenty years."

Her face was struck with pure confusion as she registered what he said. "What?"

"I haven't had a house since I was twelve," Nick deadpanned, his usual grin losing its luster at the seriousness of his voice.

"I," she started, her face growing more concerned and confused by the second. "I don't understand."

Ignoring her, he continued with his questions. "Why don't you stay at a hotel?"

"I don't have the money – What do you mean you don't have a home?" She pestered, a mixture of apprehension for whatever answer Nick was going to give her and in incredulous sneer on her face.

"I can lend you the money. Pay me back when you get in town."

Judy crossed her arms and watched him intently. Her injury momentarily forgotten as she mustered all of her energy into contorting her face into the very _picture_ of motherly contempt for his effort to change the subject. Nick's ears shifted slightly back at the unflinching gaze, his smile unchanged. "I think," she began. "It is time we establish a quid pro quo between the two of us."

"What?"

"A quid pro quo? You know, it's like a trade. I tell _you_ something, and then you can tell _me_ something in return," Judy gestured her paw between the two of them, emphasizing her speech.

Every alarm that Nick possessed to detect an incoming hustle went off, not that they really needed to. It was so clear what she was trying to do it actually threw him off. If she had a game, which she did, and she was trying to corner him or make him obligated to disclose something he didn't want to, which she did, he couldn't figure out why she thought he would go for it by virtue of reverse-psychology alone. Did she expect him to take the bait on curiosity, alone? Contrary to popular belief, it wasn't only felines that got what was coming to their nosy personalities, and Nick knew that quite well.

 _Did you ever stop to think that she might be being genuine right now?_ He wanted to shake his head, but stopped when he realized he was about to respond to his own mind. _Not likely_ , he thought. _She's shiftier than_ I _am. And that's saying something._ Nick narrowed his eyes and watched her over his long snout. _If she_ is _being genuine_ , his apparently divisive mind countered. _Then you are making progress. But if you say no, then you would be jeopardizing the one real friendship that you've had in more years than I would like to count. If she_ isn't _, then you either get hustled again or you both shrug it off. Which one's got more cons than pros?_

Nick huffed, not even slightly amused at the rabbit's games. He still had to mull it over. It was obvious which of the two cons were worse, and only one of the pros were anything more than the absence of a loss... _Making progress?_ He thought. His mind retraced its steps to find out where the phrase 'you're making progress' was used, hopeful that it was in the context of snuffing out her lackluster hustle. Unfortunately for him, no such luck. He huffed again. This time it was less of an amused blow of air and more of an annoyed sigh.

"Tell you what," he said, Judy's ears raising slightly from their pained state of being glued to her back. "You go first, and if you don't answer me with sincerity, I won't play your little game." She raised her paw to interject, only to be shot down with a quick, "And!" Nick brushed his tail across the floor in distrust. "I reserve the right to end this little thing any time I choose."

Judy eyed him as her brow furrowed. "That's not very fair."

"Define fair." Nick crossed his arms. "Seems to me like you're the one that is going to getting the sweet end of this deal. I'm _far_ more interesting than you."

She scoffed at that. "Right. The first rabbit police officer ever is as plain as can be saddled up next to a street-hustling fox."

Nick leaned back into his heals and glanced down over his snout with lidded eyes, his smug smile having returned to him by now. "Oh, your many conquests make you peerless, truly, but deep down you're still a country gall with a heart for horticulture." He leaned back towards her, arms still crossed. "I mean, you showed up today smelling like a farmers' market."

"I, for one, find farmers' markets far more interesting than smelling like dead soil, cement, and booze," she retorted, pointing her paw at him.

Blowing air out of his nose, he glared down at her as she sat on the hospital bed. He watched her squirm on the spot, obviously uncomfortable with the pain in her leg. This time, he sighed in earnest. "Here," he began. "Lie back or you're just going to make it worse." He pushed her shoulders back, and she diligently followed the motion. Lying back, she twisted on the spot and setting at an appropriate angle for the bed. He looked down at her again, this time watching her amethyst eyes look up at him expectantly. He wanted to sigh again, but he'd be damned if he'd let himself do it twice in one year.

"No promises, Fluff," he stated. "You're more likely to get shot down on question one than anything else."

Judy smiled up at him, her toothy grin accentuated by her buck teeth. "Okay," she chirped. "You have the floor. Ask whatever you want," she gestured on paw around the room.

Nick stared at her, trying to come up with a way to both further their argument about where she's going after she's cleared, and make her think he wasn't. He blinked before going one, "Why no hotel?"

Judy immediately shifted her eyes away from Nick and grimaced. She looked up again with worried eyes. "It's going to sound dumb." When Nick did nothing but cock an eyebrow, she continued, "I'm a bunny."

He wish he could bark out in laughter. Focusing was starting to get harder and harder. _Silky smooth, Nick, silky smooth_ , he reminded himself. "What tipped you off?" He sarcastically quipped.

"Oh, very original," she replied with even more sarcasm. "What I mean is, there is not a single hotel in Bunnyburrow."

"Really?"

"Yeah, everyone in Bunnyburrow is related, so there is no need for a hotel. The mammals that need to stay in the town overnight sleep in one of the many warrens. It's sort of a tradition to house and feed visitors of any relation, but it's mostly other rabbits. Outsiders just sleep on one of the coaches in town hall. It's actually very rare that someone from outside who isn't related to anybody to even be _in_ Bunnyburrow, let alone sleep there, so it's no place to open up a bed and breakfast." Nick continued to listen, wondering where this was going.

She sighed dramatically, "I actually never left my family's warren until I was heading for the police academy. Even there, I was bunking in the same room as a bunch of other mammals, and even though they weren't bunnies, they gave me company." She tore her eyes from Nick and stared off into the distance. "The first night at my apartment alone wasn't great, but I was too tired and excited for my first day to worry about it. It's the smell. Growing up in a rabbit burrow, you just felt like you were in a living thing; the smells the sounds, it felt right to be there. In the apartment, people all lived in the same place, sure, but it wasn't alive. Nothing about the place felt like home until a couple weeks after I moved in." She paused.

She looked back at Nick. "I lied."

Nick looked at her quizzically. "What?"

"I was going to leave it at that, but quid pro quo and all..." she trailed off. "I came to Zootopia once before. I drove in to do some stuff for ZU because I attended online courses back in Bunnyburrow. I didn't think a hotel would be a big thing, and I even thought it would be..." She glared at him before returning her eyes to the floor and muttering in an almost incomprehensible level, "...exotic." She quickly quieted Nick's snickering by punching him in the arm. "Anyway!" She exclaimed. "It was the worst night I have ever spent in my entire life. Rabbits like to sleep in familiar territory, and being in that sterile room that smelt like cleaning products and scent maskers, it was hell. Especially for someone like me, who had woken up every morning of my entire life to the scent of my warren and all of my family. It was so horrible, I had to bury my head in my suitcase just to get a couple hours of sleep."

"That doesn't explain why a hotel is any different than your apartment."

"Well, that shoe-closet didn't smell like my home, that's for sure, but it didn't smell like the inside of a chemical plant either. The landlady didn't clean the place really at all, so I just pretended I was sleeping in the hayloft back home until it started to smell like rabbit." She shrugged at Nick's cocked eyebrow to the mention of her having a 'hayloft'. "What can I say? You weren't really that far off when you called it a podunk. Plus, I came prepared with a bunch of stuff that smelled like home. Pretty much the first thing I did was replace all of the bedding with authentic farmhouse décor," she said with a flair added to the end of her sentence.

Nick's smug grin grew wider before he started, "I take it you mean straw pillows and quilts made from old shirts?"

"Please," she rolled her eyes. "With how big my family is, there isn't a shirt to spare."

"I'm not hearing a tepid denial for that straw pillow."

"I will have you know that straw pillows are very comfortable."

"Right. Are you sure it's not an acquired taste? I mean, with all that time you've apparently bedded down in the hayloft, I imagine you could sleep on a rock. So long as it smelt like a family rock."

"Oh, you're very funny," she uttered with excessive sarcasm. "And I did not 'bed down' in the hayloft."

"If you weren't up there to sleep," he leaned in, his grin growing even more. "I take it you were up there for a different kind of 'bedding down'?"

Judy's face contorted into a look of both complete incredulity and disgust. She hoisted herself up to be leaning on her elbows so that she had a better angle to give him the most unamused look she could muster. "Don't be gross, Nick. We eat that hay."

"Grass? You eat grass?"

"Not the point," she waved her paw by the wrist, as she was still supported by the elbow. "You wouldn't sleep in a pile of fish would you? And I doubt you could get in the mood surrounded by beetles."

Nick shrugged. "I've slept in worse." He watched her setting back down, laying comfortably in the hospital bed again. "I think," he started. "That not liking the smell of a hotel isn't exactly a bombshell. If this is going to be a trade, then you're only going to get my favorite color."

Judy looked back to Nick and then looked away, embarrassed. "It's not just the smell," she said meekly. "It's everything. The sights, the smells, the feeling, and…" She trailed off. "...the _sounds_."

He couldn't help but laugh. "I took you for a prude, Carrots, but you must live in a monastery if you can't hear any back in your apartment."

"That is _not_ what I meant," Judy shot back. "I didn't even hear anything like that, it was just the sounds of all the other mammals in the building."

"And that's different than your burrow or your apartment, how?"

"Because rabbits also have a hard time sleeping alone. If there aren't any other rabbits around, and we can hear at least twenty other enormous mammals through paper-thin walls, it's unnerving. It's an instinct thing, and it's especially bad when you can hear - uhm." She looked right into his eyes. "Promise you won't get mad?" Nick gave her a confused look before slowly nodding his head, interested in where this was going. Judy took a deep breath and continued, "When you can hear predators."

"I take it there's only prey in your old building?"

"Yeah," she breathed disappointedly. "I know how bad it sounds, but I didn't choose that place because it didn't have any predators in the building. Please trust me when I say that," she looked at him pleadingly.

"Okay, Fluff," he raised his paws in surrender. "I wasn't going to suggest you did." He lowered his paws as he watched her over his long muzzle. "You again failed to mention why it is your apartment is any different if the 'no other bunnies' thing is still a problem."

Judy avoided his eyes again, her face warming enough for Nick to notice. "That's because it's the most embarrassing thing of all."

"Oh?"

"Yeah…" She trailed off.

"Are you going to tell me, Ms. quid pro quo, or can I go get the truck now?"

"...uffed mammals," she whispered, her nose twitching uncontrollably now.

"You want to run that by me again?"

Suddenly, Judy found the tips of her feet very interesting. She took one of her ears out from behind her and draped it over her shoulder down her chest, petting it nervously. She was rubbing the dark colored tip when she finally repeated herself, "stuffed mammals."

Nick just stared at her. When she raised her quaking amethyst eyes up to meet Nick's she quickly looked away again. Her nose twitching worse than before. This time, he watched her nose intently. _Stuffed mammals_ , he thought. _She sleeps with stuffed mammals. I can see why they're so self-conscious about being called cute._ He was about to say something reassuring before he realized what he had just thought. His face almost split in two at the mischievous grin that spread across it.

"That has got to be the _cutest_ thing anyone has ever told me in confidence," he said in a mocking tone, lacing the word 'cutest' with extra flavor.

She sighed in defeat before looking at Nick with absolute serious resolve. "If you tell a soul, yours will have to find a new body," she deadpanned.

 _Probably only_ half _serious_ , he thought, chuckling. He gave her a wide grin that was softer than before, but still playful. "I take it it's a stuffed bunny?"

"They're," she corrected. She still didn't look at Nick, but she could tell he was giving her another expectant look. He wanted her to tell him just how many she had. "They're all bunnies, yes." She was hoping he would drop it there.

"How many?"

No such luck. She sighed and met Nick's eyes. "It's some," she trailed off. She whispered the continuation as she glanced around the now very familiar room. She could probably draw it by memory by now. "Ten odd stuffed rabbits."

Nick could only scoff in disbelief. "Ten? Odd? Are you saying you have more?"

"Those were just the ones I brought with me. I have a lot more than that."

"I don't even want to know how many," Nick waved. "Are you really telling me that you hate hotels because it doesn't smell like home and you don't have your plethora of rabbit facsimiles to cuddle? What are you, eight?"

Judy huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, closing herself off. It almost even looked like her ears got more limp than they were. "I knew you wouldn't understand," she muttered, looking fraught.

 _Smooth move, slick_ , he thought to himself. _She opened up to you, and you proved to her that you can't trust a fox. What's the next step in this plan of yours? Bring up the press conference and rub it in her face? Why don't you just call the police station and tell all of her coworkers about it._

"Hey," he began in a soft tone. He moved closer to her and put his paw on the bed next to her leg. Not touching her, god no, he was trying to be reassuring not invasive. "You're right, I don't understand." _Smooth. Right about now is when you should be having some dessert to go along with that foot._ "But I don't think it's weird or anything."

Judy looked up at him hopefully. "Really?"

"Yeah, I mean, I'm a fox so having a stuffed mammal never really crossed my mind. We're more of the _solitary_ variety, you see. I'm sure it's a different story with you guys, though? So, I think it's alright for you to do it." _Do you plan on not tripping all over your words? I know what you sound like, you know what you sound like, and while that might have sounded_ serviceably _collected to the uninitiated, we know full well you're panicking. Stop talking before you screw this up again._ Nick's jaw snapped shut a little louder than he would have liked.

He ran his tongue over the sharp tips of his teeth while he collected himself, noting with pride that he has still yet to drop his neutrally smug smile. He could salvage this. It wasn't hard. Nick was just a little irritated that he got caught off guard by his own conscience. He had gone off on that tangent because he thought that was his voice of reason, of the grizzled conmammal that has survived for decades with no help from anyone, only to find out his conscience had made a triumphant return from his prolonged absence. Now just when had that happened?

"It's still the cutest thing I have ever heard," he stated smugly. "Doesn't change that."

Judy suppressed a giggle to smack his paw away from her leg. She glared at him with mock incredulity. "Stop it. How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"

"At least once more," he chucked back dishonestly. Now, it was back to thinking. He studied her features as he mulled over this proposal of hers. He really had no interest in talking to her about anything of the personal variety, but he couldn't deny he wanted to know more about her. If only because of curiosity, if nothing else. _You know how curiosity works_ , he reminded himself.

He hummed in thought, grabbing Judy's attention. "Alright, Cottontail," he chirped, making up his mind. "You can ask your quid pro quo, but remember the deal: I reserve the right to not incriminate myself."

She beamed up at him, overjoyed. Nick immediately felt like something was off. "Nah, I'm fine."

This time, Nick's face fell completely. His lidded eyes became narrow, and his smile falling off wholesale. "What?"

"I said I'm fine right now, I'll think of something later." She was beaming brighter still, but her eyes slightly closed with a mischievous glint.

 _You stupid fox_ , he thought. _She is playing you for a fool. You knew something was wrong the minute she suggested this little game, and you walked your ass right into it anyway. I should just end it right now. Still, I wonder what her question will be. Maybe that's what she's betting on. 'Curiosity kills more than just cats', Nick, don't start now; you're gambling with eight lives you don't have._ His eyes narrowed even more as he continued thinking, _That look of devastation when I made fun of her stuffed rabbits… I, Nicholas Wilde, just fell for the sympathy play hook, line, and sinker. I have well and truly lost my goddamn mind. Forget never hustling in this town again, I can never_ show my face _in this town again._

Judy giggled outwardly at his expression. "Don't look so disappointed. I'll come up with something _when the time is right_ ," she sassily egged on.

Nick scoffed loudly at her. "You know what," he said irritably. "I'm going to go grab the truck before it gets towed."

"Yeah," she smiled at him. "That's a good idea. My parents would be pretty upset if it got impounded."

"Uh-huh," he forced out as he turned to leave.

"Oh!" Judy cried in urgency.

"What is it?"

"I'd rather not wear the pants any longer than I have to," she gestured down at her blood-soaked jeans. "There's a pair of overalls in the truck. Could you bring them up when you get back?"

"Sure, sure. So long as I get to take pictures."

"Ack!" Judy retched out, looking like she just tasted a saltlick. Her smile returned to her as she playfully called out to him as he left the room, "Not on your life, Wilde!"

Now that Nick was on his own, he made quick work of evacuating from the building. Skulking is not a word he liked using, but that is what he did. He had become somewhat of an expert of making it in and out unseen. He figured that since he had half the mammals in the city watch him like a hawk as he carried the bunny around, he had some stealth to make up for, and make up for it he did.

He passed the nurse first. He slid next to a gurney that was backed up against the wall. After he watched her walk into Judy's room with arms full of various medical supplies, he ducked down to the front of the nurses station and followed it all the way to the elevator, out of sight from the mammals mulling about behind it. After he was on the main floor, he just made his way past a number of hospital employees and walked out like he owned the place.

Once outside, Nick fished out a pawful of change from his pocket and made his way over to one of the payphones situated against the building's external wall. He was going to need a cab because he had to retrieve his license first, and didn't feel like riding the train all over town. He got comfortable under one of the many awnings in front of ZooCentral's main entrance and waited.

 _I better use my time wisely_ , he thought. _Might as well try to think of some career paths I could look into._ Nick knew he was being dramatic about thinking he would never be able to hustle again. Truth be told, he was thinking of it as more of an excuse than anything else. He hadn't done a single hustle since the press conference. Eating through savings, lounging around his bridge, and feeling sorry for himself had been the chores for the past two months, and it had worked out fine enough.

Nick couldn't shake the feeling that he was partially to blame for the press conference. At the time, he didn't think about the fact that police officers were trained to the point of unconscious instinct, and had 'failure to react' drilled into their minds as a death sentence. He didn't think about the fact that he _was_ twice her size, and had enough natural ability to tear her to pieces if his stunt in that exhibit was anything to go by. He didn't think about the fact that he had known her for all but two days, and his first impression wasn't exactly a shining example of good nature. He didn't giver her a chance to apologize, or explain, or even to tell him what she really thought without trying to intimidate her into a reaction. He had just taken what she said to heart like he hadn't spent two decades learning how to live with it, and then spat in her face as soon as she walked down from that podium.

His mask was down. Not his emotional mask, but his physical one. Nick saw no point in keeping his cocky grin on at all times, and chose to just look tired when there was no one around. His lidded eyes stared vacantly in thought, his face turned downward, he just didn't care that much anymore. Used to, when he was alone he'd just look bored. When we wasn't trying to swindle or con or trick someone, he kept predatory vigilance. Being aware of the situation, and everyone in it. All the exits, alleyways, manholes, the best places to hide or run off. After two decades of being alone on the streets, you start to forget what it's like not to be looking over your shoulder.

Which is what he did. And he could see a zebra nurse looking out at him from inside the hospital. She was pushing a groundhog on a wheelchair towards the entrance, but had stopped just short when she saw the fox. Looking Nick up and down, she turned on her hooves and wheeled the groundhog further down the entrance. It didn't bother him anymore. Not after a long time. Which is why he was so bothered about the fact that what Judy said had bothered him. She didn't see him and immediately change where she was going to avoid him. If anything, she charged right into his way. Literally. She said some pretty innocuous stuff, looking back on it, and it still bothered him to no end.

He sighed outwardly when he saw the cab pulling into the hospital parking lot. He opened and closed his jaw a few times before having it return to his trademark smug grin. Patient for the driver, he waited for him to stop in front of him, as he was the only one out here. Which he did not. The cab pulled several meters up the to the right of him. _He probably either doesn't think a fox would call a cab or doesn't want one to_ , he thought. Nick shrugged as he walked over to the cab.

The driver rolled down his window, and a middle-aged male whitetail looked out at the fox suspiciously. "You th'one that called?" He beckoned in a thick inner-city accent.

"I am," Nick replied with no hint of a smile in his voice, despite his usual expression.

He snorted. "'ight . Get in."

Nick climbed into the cab that felt very big for his moderate disposition. When he had called, he had given them the ballpark of what size he was by a simple 'medium' classification. The most common type of cab, it catered to anyone from Judy's size all the way up to lions. The deer eyed him from the rear-view as he settled into the seat and closed the door.

"Where we headin'?"

"First stop is going to be on the corner of Grass and Verdure"

"First stop?"

"Yeah, after that it's going to be down near Banyon."

The deer just stared at him and gripped the steering wheel uncomfortably. He continued watched Nick for a short few seconds before piping up. "Look, fox," he started. Nick just rolled his eyes and started to get out his wallet, already prepared for what the deer had to say. "I'm gonna need to know you got some on you before I drive you 'round some. You skip out on the first stop before payin', and my boss'll make me eat my antlers."

Nick held up three $20 bills so that the driver could see them in the mirror. "That enough?"

The whitetail turned his attention back to the road and pulled out. "Sure is," he called back, not even slightly apologetic.

Nick settled in, expecting pretty heavy traffic this late in the day. _The day I work retail is the day I clock out for good, so that's a no_ , he thought to himself, still rifling through his possibilities. _Maybe just lowkey hustles. The pawpsicles gig isn't bad, but not much in the way of profit. Reselling the sticks and the price we're charging only does so much for having to buy the sticks and the jumbo-pop in the first place. Even then, we split what we make, so we're barely pulling the minimum there. It might me easier to get an in. If we can triple our production and only pay them a sixth of the earning, I'll still be making more than twice what I am now._

That wasn't a bad idea. I mean, Nick would have to talk Finnick into going back at it, as he had moved on after he got stuck in a rut, but it was a lot safer than what Finnick moved onto. After Nick had patched things up with Mr. Big, the fennec wasn't so adverse to heading over for a "winter getaway," and seeking freelance employment at the behest of certain characters. He stayed away after the thing with the rug to maintain decent standing with the mob while still hustling with Nick. If he had been going around to both, the shrew wouldn't have taken too kindly to the show of allegiance. _'Outta sight, outta mind'_ Finnick would always reply when Nick asked what the difference was in the show of "allegiance".

As it concerned the situation at paw, he would have to formulate a new hustle or an improved pawpsicle gig before taking it to Finnick. Nick's rut wasn't the only thing that halted the hustle. As it turns out, when mammals think predators could go savage at any time, most prey take to not interacting with them at all, and as such make it incredibly difficult to step foot into prey establishments with any confidence of success. It would have to be concrete as to not insult him. They had taken breaks from hustling together many times, and most of them were Nick's idea, but none of them were because he had shut down after getting a stick up his ass about a certain bunny cop.

That is, if Nick could still even hustle. Not in the capable sense, but in the willing. What Judy had said really stung, and it stung deep. _'No one tells me what I can or can't be. Especially some jerk who never had the guts to try to be anything more than a popsicle hustler,'_ she said, and it barely even made it past the moat. It fell flat on deaf ears, and bounced right off the walls of the fort. Unfortunately for him, those seeds rooted deep, and now it threatened to tear the whole fortification asunder. In the months since the press conference, he had thought about those words a lot, and it stung even deeper when he paired that thought with her giving him the police academy application. It just wasn't fair. What she did to him. After twenty long years. It just wasn't fair.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **First things first, I am not a writer. In fact, I had almost no interest in writing whatsoever before watching Zootopia. A theme I am starting to pick up on being pretty common. If I wasn't as sane as I think I am, I would assume it's some kind of Disney MKUltra type shit to make us all burn in hell for thoughtcrime. Regardless, I am not a writer. My last fanfiction (of the same series), I burned in effigy at how badly it was written. Not really in spelling and grammar, but in how boring it was. Nobody cares what the color of the damned pattern on the window curtain in the next room is, or how many ways I can call the grass green. So, I decided to write this in a conscious effort to cut as much environmental detail as humanly possible, and focusing more on dialogue (something severely lacking in my last story). Unfortunately, I think I overcorrected, and now I am going to have to think of ways to cut the fat out of the dialogue and subtly/intuitively integrate environmental detail. I am not sure how I'm going to do that. Finding a balance between** _ **believable**_ **and** _ **realistic**_ **dialogue sounds a little too advanced for someone who has written about as many words in his entire life as a blind person who can't touch-type.**

 **Secondly, I feel one of the hardest things about fanfiction is just how easy it is to lose site of the character you are writing, and end up writing a completely different person. I didn't make Nick Wilde. Someone else did. That means I have to go by the person they made first and build whatever additions I make on** _ **pre-existing**_ **canon. I can't just go around making up shit that flies in the face of the character from the movie. Not in a straight continuation, anyway. So that means I have to go by a handful of scenes from a fast paced movie, where 96% of all his lines are sarcastic and don't tell you jack about what he's really thinking. This means I have to constantly ask myself questions like: "would Nick say this," "would Nick do that," "would Nick act the way he does if his backstory was this," "what would Nick say to this," "how would Nick react to this situation," all of this shit. And it's not what would** _ **I**_ **do, it's what would the character of** _ **Nick Wilde**_ **do. This line of thinking has made me delete large portions of dialogue, and it has certainly made me throw several plots out the window very easily. This leads me to the worst thing of all: OC. Original content. I have to write characters and events that fill in the gaps left by the film, and I have to do that in the most authentic and beholden to canon way possible. Certainly not as easy as it sounds. Especially when you are trying to do as above, and not lose site of the** _ **real**_ **Nick Wilde. And to the best of my ability, I have. I'm not going to** _ **tell**_ **you any of it in this story, most likely, but it is all written out in loose notes. It's more of a personal reference to help me inform on all of those questions above. If I write a backstory that conforms to the canon, then surely the actions and thoughts that stem from it do to, right?**

 **Oh, and I know this story isn't very original at the moment. There's only so many ways you can write the scenes that occur** _ **directly**_ **after the events of the film, and it should open up more later on. And it's not a romance, either. I'll hint it until I'm blue in the face, but this is more of a 'budding friendship' type piece. That is, now that the thing that binds two completely different people together is over, what remain to keep them from walking away? This story is about Nick accepting Judy's request for a partner, not about yiffing in the bed of a rusting farm truck. God help me, do I have notes for those** _ **types**_ **of stories in the same universe as this one, but that's a tale for another time. Or never. Depending on whether I stick with it this time.**

 **And about timing, I'm saying the events of the movie was mostly in late June and Judy left in early August. I haven't done a single bit of fact checking to see if a calendar was in the background of any of the scenes or if Disney said anything, and I'm not going to. Because I don't care. It's specific because it ties in with other stories I've got in the early planning phases. I'm probably not going to write any of them, but no harm in assuming I'm not going to just give up (even though I probably will).**

 **Leave a review, tell me if you want short and sweet dialogue, or long, exhausting "realistic" tirades. I'm more partial to tirades. At least then I have a practical excuse for the distinct lack of pacing.**


	2. So, where to?

_6:51pm, September 13th_

* * *

"That'll be forty-six twenty," the whitetail threw behind him as he swiveled on the seat to turn towards the back of the cab.

"Here," Nick replied, handing him his collection of $20 bills. "Just give me five in change."

"'Aight," he said, taking the bills from the fox with little reservation. He turned back into his seat and started rummaging around someplace that Nick couldn't see, and brought up his hoof holding a crumpled $5 bill. The bill sandwiched between his two hard fingers, he handed the bill behind himself without looking back.

Nick took it quickly and turned to open the cab door. "No 'ard feelin's, fox," the cab driver absentmindedly offered as he exited the vehicle. "Statistics and all, I'm jus' lookin' out for me and mine." The driver just shrugged while looking out the window boredly.

Nick hummed at the deer as he closed the door behind him, not sure his education level even reached statistics. Before he could think anything else, the cab peeled out and shot down the narrow street, leaving Nick behind in the dilapidated southwest end. His vision trailed from the shrinking taillights of the yellow vehicle and to the beaten old blue truck parked on the curb of the overgrown sidewalk. The caption "Hopps Family Farm" written out lazily underneath a pink rabbit.

Nick scoffed at the vehicle in front of him. The blue cab of the truck was rusted and tarnished with spots of dried mud, though unusually absent of any dents or dings into the metal. The grille had two rectangular pieces of metal sticking down, emulating a pair of buck teeth. _I refuse to believe that is a factory grille_ , Nick thought to himself. _The whole damned truck looks like a rabbit._

He couldn't decide if he was amused or bewildered by the ancient vehicle in front of him, so he decided to just forget the observation. Nick walked up to the truck and dug into his pants pocket, looking for the keys he had lifted off of Judy when he had placed her onto the hospital bed. He brought up the set to inspect its contents. Noticing it was just two sets of the same key and a plush carrot, he picked one at random and stuck it into the lock on the door. As he was climbing in, he threw two wallets and what looked like a radio onto the bench seat next to him.

Turning the ignition, he shimmied around looking for a comfortable position in the rabbit sized truck, before turning to the items he had unceremoniously dumped onto the seat. The object that looked like a radio came up first, Nick twisting a number of dials and flipping a switch. The static immediately was replaced by distorted voices, _"-ruiser 834, calling in for an update."_ The gruff female voice filled the cab of the truck, and Nick turned a dial down to lower the volume before dumping the radio back onto the seat.

 _"Go ahead, 834,"_ the dispatch officer replied back. Nick had already turned his attention to one of the two wallets. It was worn and beaten, held together by duct tape patchwork and kept shut by rubber bands. It wasn't the wallet he had kept on him. It was old, stuffed to the brim with cards, pictures, and various items, a far cry from the nearly empty husk he used to keep his money on his person. Which only housed a couple dozen bills of various denominations, and a handful of fake business cards.

Nick picked it up gingerly, as if he was afraid of it breaking. _"10-95, the two rams down in the tunnel from the APB, we're bringing them to the station now."_ Pulling the rubber bands off, he opened it up, revealing two pictures of himself staring back at him. One was a portrait of himself on his driver's license, staring absently at the camera with a smug grin. The other was a newspaper clipping of himself, his mother, and his grandfather in handcuffs sitting on a curb surrounded by police. Nick laughed to himself at his own expression looking at the reporter's camera, remembering that day fondly. His grandfather was busy saying something incredibly insulting to an officer with a face-splitting grin, much to his mother's horror. _"10-4, 834, see you at the station."_

Nick sat the wallet back onto the seat carefully, picked a handful of blueberries from the basket that was still on the seat, and threw the truck into drive. He pulled out onto the street and drove down the road, taking the first right towards downtown. Nick absently tossed blueberries into his gaping maw with one paw as he drove, his instincts helping him scan the area for any obstacles, but more importantly, cops. A fox driving down the road in a truck with a rabbit on the side would be an easy target for a traffic cop. He'd be in lockup for grand theft auto before he could bark.

After Nick had eaten all of the berries, he picked up the radio again without taking his eyes off the road. Holding it with one paw as he steered the truck with his wrist pressed up against the wheel, he turned a number of dials again, scanning frequencies. He stopped when he caught the slightest crackle of a voice and turned the dial back slightly. _"-what's your 10-20?"_ The very same dispatch officer asked. Nick didn't drive enough to remember all of the dispatch officers, but he still didn't recognize this one. The usual high-pitched male predator wasn't running the show this time. _Probably canned him after the demonstrations_ , Nick thought to himself after turning his attention back to the road.

 _"This is cruiser 879, we're set up on mile sixty-two of Oat Road, over."_ Nick immediately huffed out a breath before pressing down the breaks. He looked around for any other cars before making a U-turn and driving in the opposite direction. He moved to fiddle with the dials again. _"10-4, 879, There's-"_ The voice was cut off as he turned a switch. Taking a left onto a small access road that followed the southern coast of Sevanna Central through a number of piers, he lamented about how he should have taken this route in the first place. It was longer, but absent of any regular police presence.

Nick settled in and tossed the radio aside to bounce on the faux leather seat. He drove in silence for some ways, concentrating on the act of driving and keeping both eyes open like a hawk scanning for prey. _Or a buck scanning for predators_ , he thought to himself. _After all, you're the one that's watching for threats. Funny how a badge and a gun can change the most skittish flat-tooth into a wanting carnivore._ Nick smiled at himself, leaning his head into his paw as he propped it onto the door, raking his claws through the fur on his cheek.

 _"Dispatch, this is 812, over,"_ the radio crackled. Nick shifted his ears slightly to listen in, still focusing on driving.

 _"Go ahead, 812."_

 _"We've got a 10-80, suspect is fleeing west down Elm, on foot. Believed to be your charcoal ram, over."_

 _"10-4, 812, I'll relay that to the other cruisers in your area, over."_

 _"10-4, dispatch."_

Nick took his first left, heading back into the more populated areas of the city. A police chase would be adequate cover to get him at least to the highway, but he'd have to make it quick since it was only a foot chase. Still, Woolter, or whatever his name was, could probably give the cops a run for their money, if the ram still running after knocking himself out and being kicked off of a moving train was anything to go by. Even still, it's possible he was on his last legs, and Nick could only have a thirty second window.

He wasn't about to drive around the whole damn city just to get to ZooCentral, so he took the gamble. Getting closer to the city center, Nick rolled down the window, and partially leaned out. Making it very obvious he was a fox in a rabbit's car. Nick scanned the floorboard for anything that could help his vehicular equivalent of his confident stride, and spotted a baseball cap lying haphazardly under the passenger side of the bench. Tipping it over in his hands, he situated it atop his head, plastering his large ears under the cloth. Satisfied with his look, he leaned partially back out the window and relaxed into the drive.

It didn't take him long to get to the hospital. Without having to take any back roads or roundabouts, he cut straight through the city on the freeway. His only close call was when he stopped at a stop sign just as a police convoy tore through the street that crossed his. A motorcycle cop had stopped in front of him to block traffic for the convoy of cruisers and a prisoner transport. The white wolf riding the motorcycle regarded Nick with utmost disdain, his cold eyes darting between Nick's lazy smile and the bunny shaped truck. Nick could only tip his hat at the officer. Much to the wolf's annoyance, as he visually snorted and pulled out behind the convoy as it passed.

 _Busy day_ , Nick dryly commented to himself as he drove across the street, sparing a glance at the tail end of the convoy. _Heading to Precinct One, I see. The Chief must have found his janitor's cart after all._ Nick turned back towards the road and absorbed himself back into the task at hand. He pulled into the parking lot of ZooCentral, and parked as close to the entrance as possible for Judy. Nick killed the engine and scooped up his collection of items before throwing the radio and old wallet into the glove compartment. He threw the cap like a frisby and stuck the keys in his pocket. As he exited the truck, he stuffed the near empty wallet into his khaki slacks, grabbed the basket of blueberries, and shut the door with his right leg.

Nick moved to the back of the truck, peering into the wooden framed bed. It was a collection of farming supplies empty crates stacked neatly, all tied down appropriately so nothing banged around. He climbed up into the bed and started rummaging around, looking for this mysterious pair of overalls. When he opened a toolbox pushed up against the cab of the truck, he finally found his mark, but not before a strong scent hit him in the face. Smelling like sweat, dirt, and produce, a plain, stonewashed pair of overalls with one big pocket on the front and brass colored hooks on the suspenders stared back at him from the toolbox. Just as he found them, he slammed the box closed and jumped down onto the pavement, walking towards the entrance.

When the cold air of the hospital hit him again, he scanned the reception's employees until he saw a ocelot nurse checking over a list of some sort. Nick wasn't avoiding speaking to prey per se, he just wanted to get over to Judy as fast as possible. He really didn't feel like arguing with some prey nurse and having to tell her to call the damned ZPD if they didn't believe him. "Excuse me, Nick Wilde for Judy Hopps," Nick chirped at the ocelot who slightly jumped at his approach.

She looked him up and down, noting the basket of blueberries and the pair of bunny sized overalls draped over the very same arm, the other paw stuffed into his pant's pocket. "One moment, please," she cautiously replied. "I have to clear you with security." She moved closer to the desk and punch a couple digits into a phone after picking up the receiver. When she brought it up to her ear, she immediately started talking, "There's a Nick Wilde here for Officer Hopps."

She looked up at Nick while listening to the phone, Nick's ears not being able to decipher the low volume on the other end. "Yes," she replied to the phone. "He's a- Well, he's a _fox_ , actually." Nick didn't change his expression, silently reminding himself of his mantra. "That's right. Okay. Thanks." She pressed the phone back into its base and turned back to Nick, "You can go up. Do you need me to take you?"

"Nah, I remember the way. I just left to grab some stuff," Nick smiled at her.

"Uh-huh," the ocelot replied, taking her clipboard and walking away without so much as a goodbye.

Nick watched her walk away, his lazy smile twisting somewhat into just a plain grin, he snapped his jaws open and shut without opening his mouth a couple times before turning and walking towards the elevator. His lazy smile returned to him as the elevator ascended the shorty few stories, leaving Nick with little time to collect his thoughts. The elevator dinged and opened up onto Judy's floor, and Nick took little time walking his way to her room. When he opened the door, he was met with the site of Judy sitting upright on the bed, a male hyena doctor putting the finishing touches on her leg, and Chief Bogo standing menacingly at the foot of the bed. All eyes turned to Nick as he closed the door behind him.

"Nick, you're back. What took you so long?" Judy asked, breaking the silence. Her face narrowed as she crossed her arms. Bogo merely turned his vision between the two of them, before settling on the fox with a hard glare. "Snarlof already came down and got my statement, but had to leave since we had no idea when you'd be back."

Nick gave Bogo a sideways glance before softening his smile for Judy. "Traffic," was all he said as he shrugged his shoulders. He turned his lazy gaze over to Judy's superior, "Why are you here, Chief?"

"I don't care if there was traffic, _fox_. You're on _my_ time now, and don't forget that," the cape buffalo breathed in annoyance. "I'm here because there has been a change of plans. The media got ahold of Bellwether's arrest."

"The media?" Nick questioned, tilting his head to the side as he walked over to Judy and offered her a blueberry. "It's been like and hour and a half, how did the media get a whiff of anything?"

"Doesn't matter, stop talking," the buffalo waved. He turned back to Judy. "Like I was _saying_ ," the buffalo huffed giving Nick an irritated glance. "We're going to have a statement go out in about an hour. I need you to give me something I can work with."

Judy furrowed her brow. "Well - uh. I don't know what you mean. Like what?"

Bogo's face fell even further, his scowl growing in intensity and eyes shrinking back into his skull. " _'Something'_ like a statement from the police officer that brought her down. _'Something'_ like some piece of the investigation that ties her to the rest of the savage attacks. _'Something'_ that isn't just hearsay. _That_ kind of _'Something'_." The Chief leaned back and crossed his arms. "Yes, she was caught with the smoking gun. Literally. Yes, the recording to some extent proves that she has malicious intentions for the city's predatory base, and yes, it proves that she was willing to use the serum to achieve those goal, but right now, all I've got is a recording. I can pin her on conspiracy, one count of first degree assault, and one count of reckless endangerment, but that's _it_. I need you to give me something so that when we hit her with the charges, it'll knock her lawyers on their asses."

Judy looked down at the leg the doctor was working on and thought. She looked concerned, like she didn't know what she could say. Nick simply turned his gaze between Judy and the Chief that was staring her down before speaking himself, "Why not terrorist charges?"

Bogo's expression shifted slightly as he turned to the fox, both Judy and the doctor that was working on her leg looked at him apprehensively. "What did you say?"

Nick's lidded eyes met Bogo's, but his lazy smile faltered somewhat by the subject matter. "Last time I checked, conspiracy to commit a terrorist act is a pretty hefty charge," Nick started. "You can also get her on attempted terrorist activity, as her point in darting me was for the headlines, wasn't it? That's in the recording. Not to mention her tirade about using fear to control the city. If that's not your garden variety ' _terror_ ist', I don't know what is."

Bogo seemed to mule over the possibility, but still was still unsure. "You want me," the buffalo deadpanned. "To go out there and tell the city that their mayor is a terrorist."

" _Former_ mayor, but that is what I'd say, yes," Nick replied. "Did your guys find anything in the train car?"

The Chief gawked at him for the change of subject, but followed the thought anyway. "Well, your little _maneuver_ left a trail of dirt, battered flowers, and broken lab equipment over two hundred yards of tracks, so we have plenty to get this Doug character and his cohorts with." He turned his attention squarely on Judy before continuing, " _Next time_ , though," he growled and flared his nostrils. "I would hope that you _call_ us and have us _raid_ the criminal's drug lab so we can collect _all_ of the evidence without having to pick up the pieces of a _literal_ trainwreck." Judy could only squirm under his gaze.

"Did you get Doug's phone?"

Bogo turned his attention back to Nick. "Yes. He was talking on it when we grabbed him."

Nick smiled at him. "Good, because you'll find that he was talking to the 'mastermind', or one of their lackeys, of this operation just before Bellwether's 911 call. I wouldn't be too surprised if you find that phone number leads back to our former mayor."

Judy joined, piping up to finish Nick's line of thought. "I also heard one of the other rams talking on the phone after I locked them out of their lab. Since Bellwether showed up only a couple minutes after that, I think that it's even more likely to lead back to her."

Nick nodded his head, agreeing with her. "That's right. And what's more, you've got a couple cops on your hands that probably want to stay out of The Zoo. You might not be able to get them on anything more than assault on a peace officer, but…" Nick trailed off.

"They don't know that.," Judy finished, her eyes growing wide. "You can flip them by threatening felony terrorism charges! Just like Bellwether!" Judy looked up at the cape buffalo, who was now regarding the situation with more and more apprehension. "What else did you find in the wreck? Did you find a map?"

"No," Bogo shot back. "We found a number of binders, though. Looks to be files on the mammals they hit with the serum. It would seem most of them burned in the fire, but a few survived. Other than that," he shrugged. "Nothing but broken glass, burnt out lab equipment, and trace evidence."

"Did any of the binders have a Mr. Manchas in them? Black jaguar?" Judy questioned excitedly.

"I only took a glance, but I remember the jaguar from the missing mammals case, and he was in one of them. He's still in this building, actually."

"Doug shot him when we went over to his house in the Rainforest district! That wasn't random!" Judy inhaled deeply and shot Nick a look. "Bellwether knew that we were getting close, and she had Doug shoot Manchas to kill us! That's attempted assassination!"

"Pretty sure you can pin her on over eight hundred-thousand counts of conspiracy to commit first degree assault, what with her little threat," Nick joined in. "It won't stick, but it'll certainly knock her lawyers on their asses. And by the way, isn't a terrorist threat _also_ a felony?"

Bogo just stood there, looking between the pair. His face shifting slightly from annoyance to concentration. "It could work," he said begrudgingly. "Maybe. I'll have to talk to the DA about this, but he might go along with it." Bogo stepped back from the bed and regarded the two. "For the time being, I want you to lay low, Hopps. I can't guarantee that you won't be jumped by reporters. Will you be staying in the city?"

Judy shook her head. "No, I can't afford a hotel. I've already talked with my brother, and he said he's going to be picking me and the truck up in the morning." She slightly contorted her face into an uneasy smile. "Is that okay? Do you need me here?"

The massive cape buffalo snorted. "No," he began. "I don't. I've got your statement, and you're not fit for duty, so you're on medical leave. I take it you'll be heading back to Bunnyburrow?" He continues when Judy nodded her head in affirmation. "Just keep your phone on you in case I need anything else."

"Oh, that reminds me," Judy chirped uncomfortably, her expression turning apologetic. "Since I can't afford a hotel, do you mind if I sleep in my truck in the ZPD parking garage?"

"No," Nick deadpanned, cutting the idea down before the Chief could even say anything, much to the buffalo's surprise. "You are not going to be sleeping in that monstrosity with that leg."

"Nick, stop it. I've slept in that truck a bunch of times," Judy replied, looking at him with a narrow expression. Obviously wanting him to drop it.

 _Not on your life, rabbit_ , he thought to himself. "Not with a leg like that. Doc, help me out here," he said, turning to the hyena that was finalizing the bandages.

"Uh - Well," he spoke lightly. Having remained silent for the entire exchange. He looked up at Judy. "He's right. I wouldn't recommend walking on this at all if you want it to heal quickly. And it'd really be best to lay straight with your leg elevated, so being curled up in a truck doesn't sound like it'll help the healing process."

Judy huffed and crossed her arms. "Alright, slick, what do _you_ suggest I do, huh? Since you apparently won't let me sleep in the truck, and I can't drive standard with this leg, where am I to go, hmm?"

Nick stared at her. His eyes darting between her, watching her twitching nose in his peripheral vision. He crossed his arms before answering her, "I'll drive you and the truck back to Bunnyburrow tonight. Right after you're cleared."

She scoffed at him. "It's almost a six hour drive, Nick. And how do you expect to get back?"

"I'll take the train."

"The last train is close to one in the morning, even if we leave right now, you might not make it."

"Then there's no time to lose," Nick shot back.

"Alright, I'm done here," Bogo snorted, tired of their exchange. "I don't care if you sleep in a hole, Hopps. Use the parking garage if you need to." He turned and made his way towards the door. "I expect you at work in a week's time with either a written apology to all of the predator's in the city or your resignation papers. I don't care which." When Bogo reached the door, he paused. "And fox," he tilted his head back to look at Nick. "Come by the station to give your statement sometime this week. Remember what I said about being _crystal clear_ and _consistent_? Take a couple days to memories the _facts_ like I told you, and talk to Hopps here on the appropriate _wording_. Do I make myself clear?"

Nick only nodded at the thinly veiled threat that was his tone of voice. "Good," the buffalo smiled fakely before turning and leaving the room. When the door closed behind him, the room fell back into silence. The doctor, who had been sitting on a chair in front of Judy this whole time, stood up and looked at his work.

Nick watched the doctor curiously, before looking around the room. When he didn't find what he was looking for, he turned to Judy. "What did you do with the handkerchief?"

Judy looked at him for a second before realizing what he was talking about. "Oh, I have it right here," she said, as she pulled it out of her pocket, handing it over to Nick. It was coated in a dark crimson color, and stiff with the congealed blood.

"Eh," Nick looked disapprovingly at it. "Why don't you wash it and return it after. I've got enough of your blood on my hands today."

"Speaking of blood," the doctor interjected. "I'm prescribing you crutches. I know I said you shouldn't walk on it, but I still want you up and about a couple times a day. Even if it's just around your room." The doctor shrugged at her questioning glance. "Deep vein thrombosis. If you sit still for a long time, it could be an issue. You'll be fine so long as you do as I say." He moved back to the foot of the bed and took the chart the nurse had hung on the end. "I'm also prescribing you some muscle relaxers, antibiotics, and recommending some over-the-counter pain reliever. I'd say Motrin. Four-hundred milligrams every six hours if pain persists."

He put the chart back and looked at Nick. "If she falls asleep on your way out towards Bunnyburrow, make sure she doesn't do it in a straining position. Bunnies are known to rip their stitches in their sleep with all the twitching and rolling around." He turned back to Judy. "Come back before you head into work, and I'll have a look at the progress. If it's looking good, I'll be able to take the stitches out. If not, you'll have your first day back in crutches." The hyena turned and made his way towards the door. "I've already gone over how to bandage everything, and you can take a shower so long as you're not putting weight on that leg and you keep it dry." Just as he was leaving the room he turned back. "A nurse will be by with the paperwork and a pair of crutches. Oh, and one more thing." He looked the odd pair up and down. "No sex. You'll rip the damned stitches. I've had enough bunnies to know that for sure." He blinked at what he just said and the look on their faces before barking out a laugh. "As patients, that is," he barked another laugh and closed the door behind himself.

The hospital room fell into silence, and the pair of mammals looked at each other quizzically before busting out into giggles. "I think," Judy breathed between snorts of laughter. "That he thought we are together!"

"Ha," Nick short back. "Hyenas. All of the handsome features of a canid with none of the senses. He could probably just smell me on your clothes."

"Oh, God," she mused. "I guess I really should have told you to get me more than just the overalls."

"Come on now, Carrots," Nick shot back as he downed a couple blueberries. "A rabbit that smells like a fox does wonders for your street cred. Means you went toe-to-toe with a vicious predator with nary a scratch to show for it." Nick glanced down at her newly dressed calf. The doctor had cut almost the entire pant leg off, leaving only a short couple inches running down her powerful thighs. "Well, maybe one."

Judy snorted, looking back at him drowsily. "The doctor seemed to have something else in mind, though."

"That's over eight years in college for you, Fluff," Nick replied as he sat the basket down on a table backed up next to the bed. "I swear those places are bigger cesspools of raunchy debauchery than where _I_ grew up. So long as none of your siblings went for anything more than a bachelor's degree in agriculture at your local community college, they'll just think you beat up some vulpine criminal."

"You keep talking like that, Wilde," Judy defiantly quipped, pressing her balled up paws against her hips. "And it'll be so close to the truth it hurts. Literally."

Nick raised his hands in defeat, still grinning. Once she seemed satisfied with his surrender, he handed her the crumpled pair of denim overalls. She took them and shook them about, sending clouds of dust and dirt in every direction. Nick coughed at the particles, taking in a lot more scents from the countryside than her would like. He almost closed his senses off completely before he got a whiff of a surprisingly pungent smell not unlike Judy's. He stuck his nose further into the air and breathed in comically, trying to get a better catch than the last. When he got it again, this time he realized that it _was_ Judy's scent, just heavily caked in sweat and dirt. The fiery smell almost caused him sneeze.

"I take it," Nick began. "That the toolbox in the back is yours?"

"Yeah?" Judy replied questioningly, wanting Nick to explain the inquiry.

"Just wondering why you had a spare set of overalls, is all," Nick lied, trying to maintain his composure with the smell saturating his senses more and more. _Okay,_ is _there something wrong with you?_ He thought to himself. _If I have to tell you to focus one more time today, I'm going to blow a damn fuse._

"I use them a lot when I go out into the fields directly after doing something in town. I don't want to soak my nice jeans in sweat and mud, now do I?" She gave him a lazy smirk as she patted them down one more time, before tossing them to the foot of the bed. She laid down back into the bed and started fiddling with her jeans waist button while holding her head up to look down at her progress, much to Nick's surprise.

"What - uh," Nick began, completely dumbstruck as he looked around the room in a futile attempt to find some kind of assistance. "What are you doing?" He settled his eyes back on Judy only to see her zip her fly all the way down, revealing a pair sky blue panties. Nick sucked in a surprised breath and turned around, immediately remorseful for what he just saw.

"What are _you_ doing?" She shot back incredulously. "I need you to help me out of these things. Come over here and lift me up by my waist so I can pull these off without bending my leg."

"No."

"Excuse me?" Judy scoffed. "Nick, you had better get over here right now if you know what's good for you. You left me in here _alone_ while you went out for a Sunday drive, so you own me, buster."

Nick kept his vision fixed on a random point on the plain wall. Since he saw the sliver of sky blue, his posture had solidified to a stiff board, and he had started breathing out of his mouth to stave off the smell. "Look, Cottontail, I take back what I said about you being a prude, okay? Just cut me some slack here."

"Oh, I am," she quickly retorted. "I was originally going to have you do the whole job yourself, but I'd hate to insult your _refined_ sensibilities, Mr. college-is-a-den-for-remorseless-sexual-deviancy."

Nick's brow furrowed slightly in thought, something occurring to him that hadn't been been at the forefront of his mind until now. "Did they," he started. "Give you a shot?"

"For the pain?" Judy quipped. "Yes. Yes they did. Now _turn around_ ," Judy breathed with enough force to make Nick shiver, her cop tone taking control.

Nick turned slowly, taking in the sight of Judy propped up on her elbows with her ears erect, glaring at Nick irritatedly. Her fly was brazenly loose, flung haphazardly in both directions, giving him a clear view of the carrot shaped cloud pattern underneath her jeans. The tense atmosphere Nick was laboriously trying to generate for himself evaporated as he snorted out into fits of laughter. It didn't take Judy long to understand why, and her face and ears heated up as her steadfast expression wavered, her ears flopping back behind her.

"Oh, man," Nick barked as he strolled over to the side of the bed, making a conscious effort to be casual about it. "You bunnies," he breathed as he snaked his strong fingers on either side of her waist, his sharp claws raking across the fabric. She squeaked at the apparently surprising gesture, even though she had told him to do it. Her arms closed up to her chest, and eyes wide with her mouth slightly gaping. He looked her down as he held her into the air, "Come on now, rabbit. You can take your pants off now."

Judy shot him a narrow glare as she somewhat relaxed into the position. "Hold on," she said before snaking both of her paws behind her towards her tail. "I've got to get the tail strap first." After she had unbuttoned the flap of denim that broke the waistband in half so that it could fit the tail, her paws came back to hook around her waistband still underneath Nick's arms. Judy shimmied the material side-to-side to dislodge it from her shapely thighs before they finally gave way, scrunching up as they slid down her now bare grey fur. Nick was trying to read a medical poster on the wall. Something about having a plan for an emergency. Nick couldn't help but gawk at the coincidence. _The universe is trying to tell you something, Nick_ , he thought. _Though, I'm not sure how I could have planned for_ this.

"Okay, you can put me down now," Judy chirped up at the underside of his muzzle. "Could you pull them the rest of the way off?"

"Alright," Nick said hesitantly as he sat her back on the bed before moving down near her back paws. "I take it you bunnies aren't that stuffy when it comes to being in a state of undress, considering how big your burrows can be," Nick mused more to himself than to Judy, as if to explain her behavior. He trailed his eyes across the light grey fur on the insides of her thighs, coming together at her hips and continuing upwards underneath her shirt.

"Pretty much," Judy answered as she watched Nick's clawed paws wrap themselves around her jeans and carefully begin to pull. His padded fingers brushing against her bare fur.

Just then, the door to the room swung open, and a familiar deer stepped through the precipice looking over the crutches in her hands. "I've got you're-" She cut herself off at the scene in front of her. A fox standing at the foot of the bed pulling a bunny's pants off. They were both standing there, frozen in shock. Nick was the first one to move. He swiftly pulled the jeans the rest of the way off, prompting a squeak from Judy, and threw them on her lap covering her underpants. He then took the overalls and threw them on top the shredded pair before turning to the nurse and walking towards her.

"Thank you for bringing these," Nick eased in a relaxed tone, taking the crutches out of the doe's hands and returning to Judy's side. Looking at the deer expectantly for her to continue.

"Right, well…" she trailed off, unable to tear her vision from the pair. Judy just tried to hide her mortification as Nick just lazily smiled at her. '"I've got your - uhm," she hesitated before moving to one of the tables closer to the door. She finally tore her gaze and focused intently to the tabletop. "H-here's your prescription! A-a-and this right here is the copies of all of the paperwork. Have a good day," she nearly yelled over her shoulder as she exited the room looking completely distraught. The door clicked behind her a little louder than

"What the heck was her problem," Judy muttered under her breath.

"Not as much time in college," Nick quipped back.

Judy snorted and punched him in the arm playfully. "Yeah, okay, now help me put these on," she said as she tossed him the pair of overalls. Much to his own chagrin, he was still watching the door when the denim was flung over his snout, hanging off his nose like he was a coathanger. Nick's nasal cavity filled completely with the fiery scent, his eyes narrowing in a barely hidden panic.

He took the overalls off of his nose casually, and turned to Judy to see her sitting on the bed, her feet hanging over the edge. Her sky blue panties still completely visibly. Trying to maintain at least some level of self-respect, he willed his mask back into place before setting between her legs and bending over. Judy grabbed onto both of his shoulders as he held the piece of clothing underneath her dangling hind paws. Her nose twitched as she concentrated at the task of sticking both of her big paws into the legs. After Nick had pulled them almost all the way towards her knees, he rode up the material so that her paws stuck out the ends.

"Okay, now help me up," Judy offered. Nick took one arm and snuck it behind her, hooking it under her shoulders, and gently lifted her up so that she was just barely supporting her own weight on her paws. Nick pulled the overalls up, covering her defined legs and blue fabric, slightly reaching up her pink plaid shirt. Judy shifted slightly so she could hook both of her arms under the suspenders, and reached behind herself. Dipping her paw into a hole in the back of the denim, she fished out her puffy tail before buttoning the tail strap down. "Now hand me the things," she continued to command.

"Here you are, your Grace," Nick replied with mock respect, slightly bowing at her as he handed over the crutches.

As she got situated into the crutches, Nick released his steadying hold, allowing her to find her own balance. When she was settled, she looked up at Nick worriedly. "Are you sure you're fine with this? I mean, Bunnyburrow is a long ways off. You won't be getting back into the city until daybreak."

"I'm fine with it, Fluff," he replied. _No, you're not_ , he thought to himself. _You fell for your own conscience again, and now you've told her that you'll driver her almost six hours back to an army of pitchfork wielding rabbits._ He watched Judy's expression soften at his reassurance, his own mind doing the opposite. _In a car, might I add, that'll hotbox with the smell of carrots, Carrots, and Carrots' sweaty attire._ Nick's expression slightly shifted. _Oh, no_ , was all he could think, even though his mouth continued to plot against him. "It'll be fine. I don't get out of the city much, and nighttime driving through the sticks is a blast for us mammals with a good eyes."

"Only if you're sure," Judy questioned, widening her eyes in worry as her ears slightly dipped.

"I'm sure," Nick casually replied.

"Great!" Judy beamed, her bright eyes and crooked buck teeth melting any and all of Nick's apprehension in mere seconds as her ears stood completely erect.

"Then your chariot awaits," Nick gestured to the door before grabbing the basket of blueberries and Judy's ruined jeans. Taking off towards it himself before stopping and picking up all of the papers on the desk as he spoke, "I'll pull the truck around to the entrance."

"Oh, right with the keys you _stole_ from me," Judy stated, twitching her nose to an excessive degree. The indignant irritation plain as day on her face.

"I did not steal anything," Nick casually replied as he opened the door to the room. "You accepted the fact that I was going to pick up the truck, so you technically relented the fact that I was taking the keys."

"Whether or not that's true, Wilde," she started. "That does not mean you can stick your paws into my pants without permission."

"You do realize that I just took the very same pants _off_ of you, right?" Nick questioned as she clumsily waddled past him out the door.

"Yes, _with_ my permission," she replied.

"Whatever you say," Nick snorted. "I'll be sure to ask next time."

"Uh-huh," Judy shot back, plainly unimpressed.

 **Author's notes:**

 **I think I like writing Judy's dialogue, what with both of us being hicks from the middle of nowhere. Maybe it's a bit of a stretch to write her like that, because she doesn't really act that way in the movie, but I think I like it all the same. It conforms to the canon, and gives her more of a character in my book (and also makes it easier to write). Nick is harder to write for, since he had lines like "And I rarely find someone so non-patronizing", when I'd say something like "Well, thank ya, ma'am, An' ah'm glad y're sweeter than an apple pie" or some such drivel. Clearly, writing for an intellectual cosmopolitan is a difficult task for the likes of me, but I'll just have to work harder to get it right.**

 **Also, if you feel like it, and you've got plenty of time to spare, send me a pm if you catch any spelling/grammar mistakes. English was never my favorite subject. I remember trying every play in the book to get out of writing even a few short sentences. I never spent much time trying to understand the intricacies of the english language, and I've spent even less time building a comfortable vocabulary (hence repeating the same couple words like 'snorted', 'deadpanned', and some others). The dyslexia doesn't help. Sometimes I can proofread a chapter two or three times, and I'll still be catching mistakes after I publish. Not a great feeling, I have to say.**

 **Now that we're done with the scenes directly after the movie, I can finally start branching out in whatever direction I want, and that means something important: 'creative differentiation'. Establishing what makes my story different from all of the other "right after the movie" plots. First on the list: a roadtrip to Bunnyburrow. Probably a shorter chapter, mostly dialogue between Nick and Judy. I have taken into consideration making chapters shorter, and I think I will try to stick to 5-8k, all goes well, but I might make a couple longer ones. I'd like to reiterate that this isn't a romance piece. With Judy being in Bunnyburrow for most of the fic, Nick will be the focal-point to wrap up some "loose ends" the film made and smoothing out the transition between confox and copfox. That's not to say Judy isn't going to have a prominent role. Even when she isn't there, I'm sure Nick is thinking about her, but she will still have a presence (even if it is from 211 miles away from Nick). It'll make more sense in a couple chapters. I might be getting ahead of myself with the whole 'letting Nick undress her' bit, but it's more complicated than meets the eye. Trust me?**

 **I think I'm going to get into a habit of replying to all of the reviews that come in. I don't expect this story to ever get more than a dozen or so people following it, so I doubt it'll be a chore. Plus, I'm happy to answer any questions about the story, or my take on Nick and Judy's characters/relationship. I could have gotten this chapter out a week ago, but I was too busy dicking around playing videogames and working. Was there anything else I wanted to talk about? I can't remember.**

 **Leave a review with feedback, I** _ **will**_ **read and reply to them. Hopefully.**


	3. She can have it all

_9:13 pm, September 13th_

* * *

 _You're an idiot_ , Nick reminded himself internally as he turned a stupidly worn window crank. The cool night air howling its way into the cab of the truck, rustling Nick's fur. He all but stuck his snout out of the vehicle to get away from the smell. Nick admittedly hadn't spent a whole lot of time in close proximity to another mammal in a long time, and Judy's scent demolishing his own in their battle for dominance in the cab of the weather truck hadn't helped his weary ideations. _Of all the times you could choose to forget a lifetime of being alone and keeping it that way, you chose_ today _to do it._

Huffing out a breath, he leaned into the door, draping his clawed paw out of the window and into the lonely air of the highway. _You could have just let her sleep in the damned truck, Nick. There is_ no _reason you had to do this. Literally. I want to know_ what _you were thinking. What_ were _you thinking, anyway? Have you come up with an answer yet, because_ I _sure haven't, you stupid, impulsive, harebrained fo-_

"Do you want to stop and get something to eat?" Judy questioned as she opened the back window of the cab, allowing the rushing air to flow more naturally through the enclosement, and stop it from flapping her ears about comically. "I know Colly has a diner that's open twenty-four seven," she begun, looking out her own window, her nose twitching in thought. The pain meds were doing their job, as Judy seemed to be rapidly returning to her natural chipper self. She even had her ears fully upright; with the wind no longer tormenting their station, they looked particularly solid.

"Nah," Nick answered with a dull smile, his inner turmoil not even slightly visible behind his lidded eyes. "I've got a train to catch, remember? Plus, I don't much expect a diner out here in the sticks to have my favorite moules marinières. Why? You hungry?" He passed a glance at his passenger to see her nose still twitching as she watched the silhouettes of the trees fly by them. _I already ate anyway_ , he kept to himself. _Keeping food in the drops has_ still _got to be my smartest move yet._

"Right," she breathed. "Forgot about that." She turned to look at Nick and picked up a carrot from the basket between them before waving it in his direction. "Mole-what?" She inquired before biting off the tip of the root vegetable.

Nick gave her a lazy smile as he cocked his eyebrow. "Not your kind of food, Carrots. We would have to order separately."

"Oh?" Judy raised her own brow at her newly appointed chauffeur. "That's why I suggested the diner in Colly. They sell _'not-my-kind-of-food'_ there," she mocked his own words back at him, waving the carrot around as she did. "Past that, there aren't any restaurants that can serve a predator until we hit Maple, and that won't be for another hour and a half." She tapped the severed carrot on her chin as she clicked her tongue off of her enormous buck teeth, the sound snapping through the rushing wind like it was nothing more than a slight breeze. "I wonder when they close," she trailed off in a whisper.

"I already told you, Fluff," Nick said, breaking her concentration enough for her to look at him. "I've got a train with my name on it out in your little podunk, and I'll be hard pressed to find a comfortable bridge out here." Nick glanced over to the bunny beside him to see he brow furrowing dramatically. _Take the bait_ , Nick thought to himself, his smug grin tapering for effect. _Ask me about it so I can shoot your stupid game down, and I can start working my way back to sanity one step at a time._

Judy did not take the bait. Instead, she just looked back out the window silently in thought, her nose twitching absentmindedly. Nick's smile pulled back somewhat at her reaction, and he turned his full attention back onto the road; the cab returned to its state of being absent of voices, though continuing with the noise of rushing air. _This is going to be harder than I thought_ , Nick mused. _It would be better if I could tell if she caught my play, or if she just doesn't want to ask._ Nick glanced back over to the rabbit next to him. She was sitting sideways on the bench, her injured leg draped over the seat towards Nick as the other fell down to the floorboard. Leaning on the door, she had to crane her head as far as she could so that she could watch the dark forest roll by. _Were it so easy_ , he thought.

"You can stay the night," Judy said boldly, turning her attention back to Nick. "We've got plenty of room in the warren, I'm sure," she shrugged. "Then you can take the train in the morning without the rush."

Nick hummed back at her, "No thanks. I've spent enough nights in a hole in the ground," Nick baited again.

Scoffing, Judy threw the top on the now finished carrot at Nick, bouncing it off of his snout. "My room is actually on the third floor _above_ ground, thank you Mr. Wilde." She leaned back into the door to get comfortable before continuing. "Up a flight of stairs that _you_ will be carrying me through, I'd like to add."

Judy immediately caught Nick's disbelieving expression that he shot her and cut off his protest before he could even formulate one. "I _know_ you were planning on abandoning me on the porch and then taking off like some cheap date," she offered before her ears drooped dramatically, and she looked pleadingly at him. "But I just _know_ you won't be able to leave me to climb _all those_ stairs with this leg," she embellished slightly too much, leaving Nick to furrow his brow at her.

"Where do you get off," Nick snorted at her. "Here I am giving a wounded bunny a helping hand, and you're treating it like it's what I was _supposed_ to do." Nick turned his gaze back to the dully illuminated highway, the yellow and white lines snaking through the darkness with grace. "You see, this is why I don't have many friends, Carrots. Every time you give, it's nothing but more, more, more," Nick trailed off. He glanced over to his passenger and gave her a plotting smile. "If you're making me carry your cottontail up two stories after driving six hours, you're going to be sending me packing with a whole blueberry _bush_."

"Absolutely not," Judy giggled at him. "I cannot, in good conscience, send a perfectly healthy plant away to die. I'll let you take home a basket, though. Come on, it'll be fun. You'll get to see how embarrassing my room is-" She cut herself off and her face fell, her nose twitching excessively as she thought about something. "On second thought," she trailed off. "You'll be dropping me off _in front_ of my room, as you'll never step foot inside."

"Oh?" Nick questioned. "You've already laid the deal out, Fluff, and I'm taking it. A basket of blueberries and a glimpse into the personal life of a certain hero-cop."

"No," Judy deadpanned, showing no signs of changing her mind.

 _I could use this to get out of this mess_ , he thought. _Maybe if I push it enough I won't even have to see one more set of comically large ears._ "Already decided, officer. Wouldn't want you to 'besmirch your boss' precinct's reputation', now would we?"

"You'll be a rug in the dining room before you could reach the doorknob," Judy stated, dead seriousness forming the words into stone.

"You forget your handicap there, Ears," Nick pointed absentmindedly at her injured leg. "I don't care how good your fuzzy little butt can hop on one paw, I can leave you at bottom of the stairs and be through all of your drawers before you get to the second story."

Judy clicked her tongue off of her buck teeth again before humoring the thought. "You'll never find which one is mine, slick. I've got enough siblings to make sure of that."

"You sure about that," Nick questioned, looking over at Judy deviously, a genuine smile creeping over his maw. _This'll get her_ , he thought. _If you can't push them away, pull them in close and they'll do the work for you_. Judy was eyeing him tentatively when he continued. "I've got a secret weapon," he said tapping his snout with a careful claw. "I could snuff you out of a scent blocker factory at this point. I've been smelling nothing but officer Carrots since we set out on our little journey to nowhere. It's why I cracked the window," Nick finished, hooking a thumb to the open window beside him.

Judy's nose immediately started twitching rapidly, her expression sinking into her face slightly. Then her face and ears heated up incredibly fast. Her ears dropped to hide the flush, but it couldn't stop Nick's developed eyes to see the dark crimson below the grey fur of her face. _Hook, line, and sink,_ Nick thought. _Sometimes, it's just_ too _easy. It_ almost _makes up for that stuffed rabbit play._ Judy huffed out a breath in defeat, crossed her arms, and looked down at her lap irritatedly. "Fine," she breathed. "But I get to go in first to hide the _really_ embarrassing stuff."

"What," Nick uttered, unable to stop himself from making his confusion audible.

"I said I get to hide the _really_ bad stuff," she replied, not recognizing the complete bewilderment and defeat in his voice.

"Right, yes," Nick corrected himself before attempting to smooth out his dazed reaction. "I'd hate for you to _die_ of embarrassment. Mortified? Yes. Traumatized to the point of therapy? You got it. Dead?" Nick rolled his head around before sticking his nose out towards the open window. "That'd be kinda anti-climactic after the day you've had, don't you think?"

"Oh, thanks," Judy sarcastically quipped. "You're a real friend."

The car settled back into a comfortable silence. Something Nick wasn't all that accustomed to, but it was a pleasant feeling nonetheless. It seemed to him that his efforts to thwart the rabbit's increasing investment into himself wasn't going swimmingly. Which, admittedly, was rather bizarre to Nick. It was like he had fallen into a friendship that had been going on for years, and all of the methods to scare off passing acquaintances wasn't working in the slightest. In fact, they seemed to be backfiring more times than not. It wasn't even ten yet, and it was like this morning as a lifetime away.

Nick had started the day like all of the previous ones since the press conference. Getting up before the sun, skulking down to the closest drop, grabbing a bite to eat, and then running down the list of tedious chores. By the time Judy had found him almost two months after it happened, he had already completely cleaned out all of the drops, shuffled them throughout the city, washed all of his spare clothing, and restocked them with food, medical supplies, and con material. He had replaced worn bags, scoped out new spots that he could vet for additional drops, and did some maintenance back at the lot. Nick had taken to renovations at one point. Even going so far as to add additional space to his stash.

He'd run out of things to do. Nothing left but to get back out there. It was supposed to be his first real day off in twenty years. He had always done something. Walking somewhere, looking for something, thinking over a hustle or idea, formulating some plan or identity, even just the simple act of looking for a safe place to sleep took a good chunk of his day, as he never slept in the same place twice. It was just how he grew up. His grandfather had told him so long ago now that if a fox ever stopped moving, if a fox ever settled, if a fox ever stopped looking over their shoulder, that was the moment that this world would take it all away. And on this very day, Nick Wilde decided to stop. He deciding to do nothing, to just settle into a lawn chair that he procured and soak in the sun, whoever was behind him be damned. He wouldn't look.

No sooner had he got a drink and a buck to kick his hind paws up on had he heard Judy calling his name. At first, Nick thought he died. Like he had a heart attack and keeled over without realizing it. But when Judy's big, fuzzy ears shot up over the lip of that bridge, and she called his name in the most relieved tone he had _ever_ heard it uttered, he knew his grandfather was right. Life had come to take it all away. And it came in the form of Judy Hopps. She had poured her heart out to him like it was normal. Like he wasn't a fox and she wasn't a rabbit. It unnerved him. Then they saved the day. After that, she poured her heart out again, admittedly with ulterior motives, but nobody's perfect.

Finally, she had let him help her change clothing. What a reel _that_ was. He supposed it was a bunny thing; living with so much family has a way of whittling down personal barriers, but he wasn't family. He was a fox. A confox, at that. A confox that had technically threatened her in the past. It would seem to Nick that he did not even slightly deserve the trust that entailed such an act. Something just didn't seem right about the exchange.

"Can I ask you a question?" Nick broke the silence, lounging further into the bench seat as he did so.

Judy's nose twitched, and her ears stood at attention with the sudden noise, but she turned to listen to Nick before replying. "What kind?"

"I suppose it depends on the answer, but I guess it's personal," he mused more to himself than to her.

Hers eyes narrowed at him, her ears slightly sagging as she thought it over. "Okay?"

Nick glanced over to her and gave her a lazy smile. "Do you usually have mammals you barely know help you undress? Is that a bunny thing, or have you just warmed up to me _that_ much?"

Judy's long ears fell behind her, attempting again to hide the rush of blood without success. She turned her attention back out the window to think it over. "It's not really a bunny thing," she trailed off. "I mean, we've got communal bathrooms back in my burrow, but we've still got a modicum of decency. I'm used to seeing my brothers and sisters walk around the house in nothing but their underwear when there aren't any guests over, but to be so flippant with a someone who isn't family or another bunny? It's really…" she tapered off her sentence, rolling her head from side to side.

"Oh?" Nick asked quizzically. "Is this you admitting that you _have_ warmed up to me," Nick quipped, wiggling his eyebrows. "I figures taking online courses would have kept you safe, but I see now that college is even worse than I remember."

She snorted disapprovingly at him. "Drop the act, Wilde, you know what I meant."

"No," Nick carefully replied. "I really don't. If it's not a bunny thing, and it doesn't have anything to do with you finally realizing how devilishly handsome I am, what is it?" Nick peered over to the other side of the cab, watching Judy's face display her internal debate.

"I-" she started nervously. "I'm not going to answer that."

Rolling his eyes, Nick glanced back down the highway, watching the steadily rolling dark countryside flank either side. "Okay," Nick breathed. "Quid pro quo then."

"What? You've already asked your question. It's my turn."

"So bill me. If you're going to wait until I'm already long gone back to the city, just keep a tally so you can ask more questions later. Whenever it is you decide to actually _start_ , that is."

"Oh, yeah. I'm sure that'll work out. Since you've already made it clear you can stop the exchange whenever, how do know you're not just fishing for everything you can get before ending it?"

"Why don't you just start small," Nick scoffed, looking back at her with a narrow expression. "Maybe then you won't have to wait for a moment of weakness to go fishing yourself." _Tone it down, Wilde_ , Nick thought to himself. _Are you looking for a confrontation in the cab of a moving vehicle when you've still got four hours to drive?_

"That is _not_ what I'm doing," Judy bitingly shot back. "I just really don't want you to shut me down," she breathed dejectedly, looking back out the window.

"Just hit me with a normal question, then," he said back, plainly annoyed at the circumstances. "Don't go digging for something you don't even want to know, and just ask me something you're curious about."

"Okay," Judy trailed off, deep in thought. She turned back to Nick after a short couple seconds, her face losing its indecisiveness. "How long have you been driving?"

Huffing out a breath, Nick look over to the rabbit with a hard look. "Really," he threw over to her. " _That's_ your quid pro quo? After the stuffed rabbit thing?"

Judy shrugged, "You said start with something small."

Nick turned back to the road, his ears slightly pulling back as he thought. "Well, I guess I started to learn when I was eleven-"

"Eleven?" Judy indignantly cut him off. "Who the heck would teach an eleven year old how to drive?"

"Gramps would," Nick replied, a lazy smile creeping across his face. "The old bastard said mammals have got to learn how to look out for themselves, and he taught to drive so I'd never have to ask."

"He said that to a child," Judy exasperated. "No wonder you turned out how you did if you had mammals like _that_ in your life."

"Yeah," Nick chuckled, looking out his own window. "It's no wonder," he trailed off in a whisper.

"Nick," she began apologetically. "That's not what I meant-"

He cut her off with a wave of his paw. "Nothing to worry about, Carrots," he began. "I'm not blind to the truth. I know I'm not exactly winning any awards for rising above my circumstances any time soon." Nick gave her a reassuring smile, which seemed only to slightly sate her worried expression. "In fact," he quipped. "There's a picture of him in the glovebox. In the wallet." Glancing over at her as she reached for the latch, he continued. "It'll tell you all you need to know about the old mammal," he nonchalantly concluded. "I'd even venture to say it'll tell you all you need to know about my childho-"

"What the hell is this?"

Nick quickly looked over to the item in Judy's paw, now remembering too late what was also in the glovebox. In her paw was his handheld police scanner raised up into the air at him. She was looking at him with the most disbelieving and vexed expression she could clearly muster, while still looking at him with friendly concern. "It's a scanner, Fluff, what does it look like," he shot back indignantly.

"Why the hell do you have a police scanner?"

Chuckling, he glanced out of his window for a second before turning back. "I'm not going to answer that," he mimicked.

She scoffed at him. "Okay," she replied with more than a little edge to her voice. "Quid pro quo then," she mimicked back.

"You just asked your question, Carrots."

"So bill me."

Nick's ears visibly twitched at that. He narrowed his eyes at the road, refusing to turn towards her to meet her piercing gaze. _Maybe you weren't paying attention when life was giving you the crash course_ , he thought to himself. _But I was, and I can tell you emphatically that you have clearly lost your edge. It's time to get out the whetstone and sharpen up, Nick, old boy, here's your chance. Shoot her down and bring an end to this joke of a game. Hell, you'll be back to your old self in no time at all, but only if you stop doing whatever it is you are doing and grow a spine again._

His lips twisted up into a plotting smile, and he turned once again to Judy. When he did, he saw her ears completely limp, and her mouth slightly open. Her resolved had faltered, and she had lowered the scanner with a deeply perturbed expression, as if she had just realized she had set him up to shut her down. Nick's devious smile pulled at his face, lowering with the knowledge that Judy was legitimately bothered by the end of their little exchange. He turned his attention back out the windscreen, forcing his usual lazy contentedness to form itself onto his face.

Nick now found himself really thinking it over. Should he shoot her down? Should he just tell her off and block her out? It seemed strange to him that he was actually considering letting someone in. As if his entire life hadn't happened; as if he hadn't learned that it's just easier, and more importantly _safer_ , to just stop everything at the door. He now felt an uneasy apprehension at the thought. Nick wasn't proud of his life. In fact, he was anything _but_ proud. However, the idea that someone else wanted to shoulder the weight of his past developed a feeling that he couldn't place. Something he had never felt before. It was a day of firsts, he supposed. Why not add one more?

"It's not that," he started somberly, trying to find the words. "It's not that I have it because I'm always doing something _bad_." Nick ran all of the reasons he used it through his head, but most of them he had no interest in telling Judy. "It's because I drive with fake licenses."

"What," Judy began, before her attention spiked and her ears became full upright again. "Are you driving with a fake license _right now_?"

"No, my real license is in that wallet right there," he replied, waving his paw at the still open glove compartment. "I just never use it. That's why I took so long earlier today. I had to go pick it up."

"I don't understand, Nick," Judy questioned softly. "If you have a real license, why are you driving around with fake ones?"

"Something else ol' Gramps taught me," Nick smiled at her. "He used to say stuff like: 'who you are is nobody's business but your own'. Back when I knew him, he had this whole _stack_ ," Nick said, waving his paw through the air to emphasize just how big the stack was, "of fake papers. Diver's licenses, passports, you name it. The only thing he used the real McCoy for was to renew it. The guy was like in his seventies back then, and he still used a fake ID to buy booze." Nick chuckled to himself. "Crazy old vulpine, he was."

"Anyway, he got me into using them for everything. Even when I wasn't transporting something I shouldn't, or I was just taking Finnick's van around the block, I still used a fake ID. I guess I always just figured it was safer. Tying a name to a face is a powerful thing, Fluff, and Gramps knew that better than anyone. Heck, for the first couple years of our partnership, Finnick knew me as 'Todd Shaw'."

"Todd?" Judy exasperated. "Really?"

"When you're using a pseudonym to associate with criminals, it's best to brush past the pleasantries of informing them you're name isn't legitimate," Nick quipped back. "I also went by the names 'Reynard Sharp', 'Crevan Mawe', and 'Balgair Fremont'. I'm pretty lucky, too. With a name like 'Nick _Wilde_ ' people just sorta assume that my real name is just another fake identity."

" _Reynard Sharp_ ," she nearly whispered in disbelief.

"Believe it, Cottontail. I _guarantee_ you've got more pseudonyms back in your ZPD database then you have _actual_ foxes. Do you really think that 'Finnick', who I'd like to add is a _fennec_ fox, is his real name?"

"But," Judy began completely bewildered. "Why did you give me your real name outside Jumbeaux's Café?"

"Finnick asked me the same thing," Nick breathed as he glanced out the open window. "I guess I don't really know myself. I go by 'Richard Pierce' when we do our father/son schtick. The guy has even got his own wallet complete with grocery store punch-cards that look like swiss cheese, a photo of our "family" where I paid one of the vixens at the portrait store to be the mother, and more reward coupons and membership cards than I can remember putting in there." Nick shifted in his seat slightly before turning back to Judy. "Why did I give you my real name after cultivating such an identity? I haven't got a clue."

Sighing, Judy threw the scanner back into the glovebox before turning to look out her window. "It wasn't enough," she started sedately, "that I had to be a horrible speciest to follow you into that store, you had to have sold Otterton that pawpsicle, known where he was going, _and_ have a habit of lying on federal forms. No, you had to have _also_ given me your real name as a freak accident." She sighed heavily again, this time turning back to Nick. "To think about all of the things that had to happen for us to be in this truck, right _now_." She shook her head in defeat.

"Ah, the poetry of fate," Nick mused with a smile. He looked over at Judy with a soft expression before questioning carefully, "would you change any of it?"

She thought for a long few seconds, her eyes searching the darkness of the night for answers. "No," Judy finally breathed. "It's not right to change the past. It's what makes us who we are." She turned her deep amethyst eyes back up to watch Nick with a sorrowful expression. "The Judy Hopps that said all of those horrible, _despicable_ things during that _damn_ press conference needed to exist, so that I could be here now. With you." Her mouth curled sadly into a smile, slightly revealing her two enormous buck teeth. "I don't know that I'll ever be able to forgive myself for _any_ of it, but in a kind of messed up way, I'm glad I did those things."

Nick's face broke into a genuine soft smile, his muscles relaxing from their regularly calculated positions, and he melted slightly into the seat as he thought Judy's words over. "Don't worry, Carrots," he began in a dull whisper. He turned his lazy gaze over to the rabbit, smiling more with each passing moment. "I forgive you."

Judy's eyes grew wide at the words, and her ears dropped behind her head instantly. Her little paws came up to her chest as she started slightly heaving, nose relentlessly twitching. She broke out into the largest smile he had ever seen, her buck teeth accentuating her features as she just stared awestruck at the fox. Tears began rolling down her tight cheeks as she begun shifting in her chair desperately, turning herself around completely so that she was now sitting with her back facing Nick in the middle of the bench seat, he injured leg splayed out towards the door. Judy twisted on the spot, swiveling at her hips so she could turn the rest of the way and hug Nick tightly, desperately clinging to him around his abdomen and sobbing into his shirt.

He was completely stunned. Simply trying to focus on the act of driving, he relaxed slightly to give Judy a better position to hug him. Nick draped one arm over her shoulders as the tears continued to fall. "You bunnies," he whispered into the fuzzy crown of her head. Her scent was fully with him again, not even the rushing wind flowing through the cab could taper it, nor did he want it to. Allowing the dull warmth wrapped around his torso to calm down, he just watched the road with a stupid smile.

There was a sign coming up on the road, signifying that they had just reached Colly city limits. Nick watched as more and more dark houses and buildings pass by as the road began to be illuminated by streetlights. They were approaching the center of the town, and it was beginning to look like it. The dusty brick buildings of the small town laid dormant, already closed. A light ahead turned yellow, and Nick pressed down on the brakes to come to a complete stop, holding Judy slightly more so that she wasn't moved with the inertia. He glanced around the intersection before spotting an ancient looking diner on the other side, completely illuminated in clean light. There were plenty of mammals of all variety milling about inside. Both predator and prey.

"Y-you asked why I wanted you to help me d-dress," she breathed into the fabric of his shirt, her hot breath radiating through his fur. "I w-wanted you to know that I trust you." She pulled her face out of his chest to look at him with her deep eyes. "I-I wanted you to know that I wasn't scared of you. T-that I wasn't just some dumb bunny that thought you were going to hurt me." She sniffed hard as she buried her face back into his shirt. She choked again at her own words, "I-I don't know what I'm doing, Nick. I t-tried my hardest to make -hiccup- the world a better place, but I just screwed it all -hiccup- up!"

"Nah," Nick started stroking her head between her ears as she dug her nose further into his shirt, still desperately clinging to the gaudy fabric. "The world's always been a pretty messed up place, don't go hogging all of the credit." The light turned green, and he slowly pulled the truck into motion, taking his paw off of her head so that he could pilot the vehicle. Though, he did not accelerate like he could; instead he puttered across the intersection before turning into the parking lot of the diner. "Plus, you're going about it in the wrong way, Fluff. You're trying to take it all on at once. You just gotta make the world a better place for one mammal at a time," he said as he pulled into a parking space and turned the ignition. "You're already one mammal down, so you've inadvertently given yourself a head start."

Judy looked up at him and smiled sadly before realizing that they had stopped in a brightly lit lot. She sniffed hard before disentangling herself from Nick so that she could look out the window. When she saw where they were, her eyes widened and she looked back at her fox driver. "Come on," he spoke down to her. "Let's grab something to eat so I'm not tempted."

She made a sort of half snort, half sob at him playfully and smacked him across the chest with an open paw. Rubbing her fists into her eyes as she tried to clear out the tears, her face was powerless to stop another bright smile creeping across it. "What about the train," she croaked out. "You said you didn't want to miss it."

"It wouldn't be the end of the world," Nick replied as he cranked the window up. "We've been making great time, but even if we weren't, I don't have anything in the city that needs my immediate attention." Nick popped the door open and hopped down onto the cool cement before walking around to the back of the truck to retrieve Judy's crutches.

"Oh, yeah?" Judy shot back at him through the open back window of the truck as he tried to disentangle the crutches from the variety of farming equipment. "And what will you do when you inevitably have to spend the night in a hole in the ground?"

"Like I said, Fluff," he retorted just as he pulled the aluminum tubes free. "It wouldn't be the end of the world." He walked around the truck back to the driver's side and leaned the crutches against the cab. Gesturing for Judy to get closer so he could pick her out of the truck, he continued. "Still, I really don't want to meet your consortium of rabbit broods, so I'm going to duck out regardless."

Judy backed herself into Nick's arms so that she was flush with his torso. "They'll all be asleep by the time we get back," she chirped, grabbing onto Nick's arms as they wrapped around her midriff. "You'll only have to deal with a couple teenagers and maybe my brother Hare. He was going to be the one to pick me up tomorrow."

"Hare Hopps?" Nick questioned as he lifted her up enough that he could pull her out of the cab and place her gently on the ground against the truck. "Really?"

"Oh, and that's any better than _Reynard_ freaking _Sharp_?" She asked as she took the crutches that Nick was holding out to her and got situated. "It's short for Harrison, actually. He can be a bit suspicious, so when you meet him, try to be nice."

"First of all, Carrots," he replied as he gestured for Judy to go ahead of him towards the diner, and shut the truck's door. "That was a fake name, not a real one. Second of all, I'm not sure how I can pretend to not be a fox with your brother."

"It's not like that," she called behind her as she awkwardly trotted on three limbs. "He's not very keen on just about _any_ mammal. He barely leaves the burrow anymore, mostly just tending to the fields and fixing all of the equipment."

"Sounds like a real winner," Nick said as he passed Judy to open the door for her. "Can't wait to meet him," he deadpanned.

When Judy walked through the open door, Nick followed her in slowly, taking in the scene. Most of the patrons didn't even look up from their meals, but more than a couple looked on the pair with apparent distaste. Moreso for a certain vulpine half of the engagement than the bunny beside him. He decided that he wouldn't even give them the energy required to smile smugly at them, instead turning down the the rabbit. "Table or booth?"

"Oh, booth, please," she breathed up to the fox. "That walk took more than I thought, and I really want to prop this leg up again."

"Want me to carry you the rest of the way," Nick quipped down at her.

"So I could die of embarrassment? No thanks."

"You didn't seem to mind when I did it at the museum. And at the hospital," Nick carefully remarked.

"No, that's not what I meant. I'm a grown bunny, and I can walk the last twenty feet to a booth, thank you," she smiled up at him playfully. "I've got these two monstrosities, and I'm not dead yet. I'll just take a raincheck on that offer for when we get to those stairs, if you're so ready and willing to help a poor bunny out."

Nick snorted down at her as he saw an ocelot waitress make her way to the front to greet them. "Why do I feel like you just played me into accepting that request?"

"Maybe because I _did_?"

"Hi, and welcome to the Colly Flower, the flower of this quaint little city of Colly since 1924," the feline waitress chirped at the pair with a thick country accent, despite only being a few hours outside of Zootopia. "Would y'all like a table or booth?"

"Booth, please," Nick answered, pointing to the far side of the diner with fewer patrons. "You gotta juke in here?"

"Sure do hun, It's right over there," she pointed around the counter in the corner.

"Thanks. We'll take the booth closest to that," he replied turning to Judy. "I'll meet you at the table," he said with a lazy smile as he turned and started walking towards the jukebox. Fishing for change out of his pocket, he pulled out a handful of loose coins and picked out his quarters all the way over to the music machine. Flipping through the songs, he stopped at the Frank Ondatra selection and browsed the available songs. He chuckled to himself upon seeing his song "That's Life," and punched the selector button. The mechanism retrieved the disk, popped it into the player, and the music started playing over the speakers of the diner. Smiling to himself, he strolled over to the booth that Judy and the waitress were at.

"And what will you have to drink, hun?" The ocelot questioned as he approached.

"Coffee's fine with me," Nick said as he sat across from Judy.

"Alright," she smiled back, finishing her order list before looking back up at the odd pair. "I'll be right back with those drinks. Don't go anywhere, now," she said, winking to Nick.

When she started walking away, Judy turned on the seat, propping up her leg again as she spoke. "Frank Ondatra? What are you, sixty?"

"I'll have you know, Fluff," Nick replied as he looked over the menu that was placed in front of him. "That having music play is the best way to mask our hushed whispers about our illegitimate activity."

"Illegitimate activity?" Judy questioned.

"Yup," Nick quipped, taking a number of napkins out of the chrome box situated against the wall, and a pen out of his pant's pocket. "We've got to go over that tale you spun for our virtuous police department. Can't have those stories not line up, now can we? _Crystal_ clear, I think you boss said."

"Oh, God," Judy groaned. "Can we eat first? I'm starving."

"Should have said so, Carrots," Nick replied as he tossed the napkins and pen to the side to review the menu. "I would have stopped if you said so."

"We stopped anyway, so it's all good," Judy waved. "Anyway what are you gonna get?" She quipped with an enormous smile, her buck teeth pinching down on her bottom lip in thought.

"Don't know," Nick mused. "I haven't ordered anything in a restaurant in - man. Must be something crazy like fifteen years."

"You're one weird mammal," Judy snorted. "Do you do anything that's normal?"

"Considering I'm a fox that dropped everything to drive a wounded bunny six hours out of a city I haven't left more than half a dozen times?" Nick questioned, smiling lazily up at Judy as she watched him from across the table. "No. No, I do not."

Judy giggled as Nick wiggled his eyebrows and stuck his tongue out at her. Her lighthearted mood pulled on Nick's, his face breaking out into a genuine smile for what seemed like the hundredth time this day. Hell, he had smiled more in one day than he had in the past ten years. If he wasn't careful, he might be threatening to be actually happy for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime of just making it. _'If a fox ever stopped moving, if a fox ever settled, if a fox ever stopped looking over their shoulder, that was the moment that this world would take it all away,'_ his grandfather's words echoed in his head. _Good_ , he thought to himself. _She can have it all. I don't want it anymore._

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **I can't help but worry: Am I doing a good job? I'm I missing the forest for the trees with these characters? Does my ideas to fill in all of the little cracks in the story of Zootopia even work? I can't say that I know, but what I do know is I feel like a man possessed writing this dialogue. It's like I'm just channeling them from the ether. I just hope I'm channeling the right ones.**

 **I've got to say, this chapter has me fearful for all my drafts and outlines. The numerable conversational threads shuffled places in this chapter like a game of musical chairs. I can't help but blame my resolve to make it as "realistic" and "fluid" as possible (damn the plan), but this has led to a butterfly effect that'll pretty drastically change a few upcoming chapters. I can't say even** _ **I**_ **know how we're getting to where this story is going, as it's technically subject to change under the banner of "fluidity" and being "naturally emergent", but we're gettin' there alright. You can quote me on it.**

 **Also, I know this a "budding friendship" story, but why the hell do I feel like I'm writing a damn love story every time I put these two to paper? I need to pull back a little bit, but my clearly apparent bias for the ship and my damnable "naturally emergent" writing style is getting in each other's way. Maybe I'll wear a rubber band and snap myself every time I write something crossing the line. I don't know.**


	4. How am I supposed to get ahold of you?

_12:26 am, September 14th_

* * *

"Judy," Nick breathed, putting his paw onto the knee of her uninjured leg and shaking it slightly. "Come on. Wake up." Nick turned his eyes back to the dark road, watching her slowly turn in her position on the bench out of the corners of his vision. She yawned dramatically, showing her large, herbivorous maw along with her enormous buck teeth. Judy stuck her balled up paws into her eyes and attempted to rub the sleep from them, still laying completely on her back. Nick almost jumped when she started shifting her hind paws around his lap, kicking at his thighs. "We're almost in Bunnyburrow," he eased to her lopsided ears. "I'm going to need you to actually tell me where you live, if you don't mind a fox like me knowing where all of your vulnerable little brothers and sisters are," he smiled at her from across the cab.

Judy yawned again, this time stretching her arms as far into the air as she could and arching her back to force the drowsiness from the joints. "Oh, I'm sure you'd like to know where a girl like me lays her head, wouldn't you," she inquired lethargically. She propped herself up on her elbows and peered down to her large hind paws draped across Nick's lap, wiggling her toes slightly. "Looks like I'm going to need some more of those pain meds," she mused to herself, her half lidded eyes staring apathetically at her injured leg.

"In the glovebox," Nick answered boredly, flaring his nostrils slightly at the disturbed denim. The cab had long since been saturated by Judy's scent, as Nick had closed the windows to aid in her much-needed slumber. It didn't help much that the source of the fiery scent was draped just over his lap, the fumes rising straight to the one destination that mattered. Luckily for him, he had gotten used to it over the four hours he had spent in silence, though he wasn't sure sure if he liked the fact that he had become so intimately familiar with her scent. He hadn't felt like he knew someone's smell so thoroughly since he was a kit.

He was roused by the sound of Judy threw a couple pills into her mouth and lobbing the bottle back into the open compartment. She then mustered her strength to lift herself with her paws, pulling her entire body across the bench seat into a sitting position against the door. The vanishing warmth from Nick's lap felt slightly numb, the imprint her weight had left onto his fur and pants still plainly visible. "I can't believe I slept through the mountains," Judy finally uttered, looking out into the cold, fall night air with her nose twitching. She turned back to Nick as she ran a paw down her face to wipe the remainder of sleep from it. "How long ago was that?"

"We made it through the mountains probably about an hour ago, I'd say," Nick replied.

"Man," she breathed back. "I was out for awhile, huh?"

"Can't say I didn't expect it," Nick answered, glancing over to her with a lazy smile. "You've already made this trip once today. I'm actually surprised you lasted as long as you did."

"I can't imagine how you feel," Judy yawned again, Nick taking his chance to study the teeth that fascinated him so much once again. They looked like they could do more damage than some predators. "I can never stay awake driving this late at night."

"Like I said, It's a blast for us mammals with excellent night vision," Nick said. "Can't say it doesn't get boring after awhile when all I'm looking at is thousands of acres of flat fields and some rolling hills, though."

"Yeah, imagine how you'd feel if all you could see is a hundred feet of highway and nothing but blackness," she replied glancing out of the window again, nose twitching ever so slightly. "It's even darker than normal," she trailed off.

"Cloud cover. Rolled in when we came down off the mountain," Nick offered, looking up to the dull darkness of the sky. "I swear this drive shouldn't take as long as it does," he said, shaking his head.

"Two hundred and eleven miles," Judy deadpanned before snorting loudly. "They just leave out the fact that it's as the crow flies."

"Whatever happened to that swath they were cutting straight through the range?" Nick questioned irritatedly, clearly displeased that he had to take a winding road that snaked through the cliff faces at painfully slow speeds.

"Turned it into the rail system," she moaned out another stretch. "Costs were piling up and they decided to recoup their losses with train tickets. As dumb as that sounds," she snorted the last part out.

"I'm glad I never paid taxes," the fox scoffed loudly. "They'd have spent it on a sprinkler system in Sahara Square."

"Careful there, Wilde," Judy toted, waving her paw at him. "I'm a sworn officer of the law, remember?"

"With the drive I just went through," Nick glanced over to her with a smug expression. "I can claim you got the confession out of me under duress."

"Ha," she chirped at him. "I wouldn't be too sure. We are, after all, going to have a conversation about that at one point."

"Oh?" Nick cocked an eyebrow at her. "Is that a threat?"

"Only if you want it to be," she shook her head at him, smiling. Judy glanced out the windshield, gathering her bearing on where they were. "Glad you woke me," she finally started. "We're going to be coming up on a light here in a few. You need to take a right at it."

The cab settled back into silence, only broken by Judy directing him closer and closer to the Hopps' family farm, much to Nick's building apprehension. _You've made your bed, Wilde_ , he thought to himself. _Might as well lie in it._ He could not even begin to imagine what was waiting for him when he reached his destination. Whether it would be the army of small, cotton-tailed mammals armed with a variety of sharp farming equipment, or just a mistrustful sibling with an anti-social streak, he couldn't know. _Carrots will have my back. She could knock out twenty rabbits blind, crippled, and deaf_ , he mused to himself with a creeping smile.

 _I'm not sure which I should be more offended by_ , his more survival-inclined mind butted in. _The fact that you're walking into a bad situation like it's nothing, or the fact that you're relying on a tiny rabbit for support._ His brow furrowed at his own thought, mulling the idea over. _It wouldn't be the first time I've broken either of those sensibilities today_ , he retorted. _After all, it is a day of firsts._

Nick glanced over to the rabbit beside him as she picked out her phone from the large pocket on the front of her overalls. When the screen lit up, her face was illuminated brightly as she checked her messages, nose twitching the entire time. Nick turned back to the road, another dull smile creeping at his features.

"Before we head into the rabbit's den," Nick started playfully. "I think we should go over some signals so you can get me out of being between a rock and a fuzzy place, if you catch my drift."

"What," Judy snorted without looking up from her phone. "Like those abysmal paw signals you showed off at Cliffside?"

"Yes, exactly like the abysmal paw signal," Nick smiled.

"You won't need them," she giggled. "I'll be there to protect you from my hoard of _dangerous_ siblings," Judy sarcastically quipped.

"You act all lighthearted about it now, but let me tell you that a handful of small mammals can take down some of the largest animals around. I would know."

"Yeah? You'd know, huh?" She questioned. "Take that left up there," she pointed ahead of them.

"By the tree? The big one?"

"That's the one," she chirped. "Anyway, you're worrying over nothing. Like I said, they'll all be asleep. The only bunny you're going to have to worry about is me," she said, looking back down to her phone. "I may be down a leg, but if you forget about our deal, I'll still be able to make good on that rug threat."

Nick chuckled, sighing as he watched farmhouses appear more frequently, jutting out of the oak knolls and fields of crops. "We're still doing that, huh?" He was watching the road, but he could still spot Judy nodding her head vigorously to him out of the corner of his eye. "What happened to all of that trust, Carrots?"

"Oh, don't even start," Judy beamed at him. Looking ahead of them, she pointed to another turn, "That road right there, the dirt one? That's our driveway." She turned back to him. "It's not about whether or not I trust you, it's just some things are so embarrassing I _still_ do not want you to see it. If anything, you should take it as a compliment that I care about us enough _not_ to show you."

"Sounds to me like you don't trust me with the truth, the way you put it," Nick mused as he turned onto the drive. The winding packed dirt snaked through a small riverbed that looked like it hadn't seen any water except for rain in centuries before straightening out to run parallel with an enormous field of carrots. "If you ask me, you should just show me what it is before I just _ask_ what it is. I'm pretty sure it's my turn, right?" Nick turned his snout into the air and angled it at Judy with an exceptionally smug expression.

"Don't," she deadpanned at him.

"We'll see, Carrots," he chuckled. "We'll see."

Just then, Nick caught a glimpse of the estate through the gloomy haze of the night. The mansion sized building sat on the top of a small hill, surrounded by neat fields of crops and oak trees. _It really_ is _large enough to fit an entire 'horde' of rabbits_ , Nick thought to himself. The several overlapping longhouses lazily arched into the air. The largest of the structures rested gently on the hill, taking the entire crest, where the others looked like a newer additions to the enormous structure. Domed and curved rooves were lined with cedar shingling, almost black in the lack of light. The mixture of dark and brightly lit windows went stories into the air, and spotted the sides of the building.

Grass and moss grew out of every crack and crevice of the structure, making it look warmly abandoned, the truth being betrayed by the towering chimney billowing out a cloud of dispersing gray smoke. The cool stone walls were framed by small picket fences and wooden arches swayed with the hill around its base. There was a barn on the far side of the hill, barely anything but a blurred shape in the moonless night. "I take it that's the hayloft you were talking about," Nick asked, waving his paw in the direction of the barn.

"Sure is," Judy beamed. "I can't believe I was gone for less than a day, and I'm already glad that I'm back."

"Ha," Nick breathed. "How did you last as long as you did in the city?"

"I guess I never got to feel like I was coming home," she whispered, staring out at her home coming closer and closer. "It's like the first time I've seen it in months. Being back felt more like it was a consolation prize. I failed in the city, so I got to run back home with my ears down." She giggled and looked over to Nick with a dazzled expression, a smile splitting her face in two. "This time, it feels like I'm supposed to come back," she joyfully shot at him, her genuine happiness not being lost on Nick, who smiled back.

"Well, I'm glad," he mused as he pulled up to the house and parked in what he could only guess is a parking space, two lines trampled into the grass so much they were just patches of dirt. "If you didn't feel like _you_ were supposed to be here, how the hell did you expect _me_ to feel?" His smile sneaking through his pursed lips, showing his sharp teeth unconsciously.

He turned the ignition and looked up at the house, a lone rabbit was standing on an illuminated porch, staring back at them with his arms crossed. He was a silhouette against the lights of the porch, but Nick could still see the lapin's brow furrowed, and his ears slightly tilted. More importantly, Nick could see smoke rising around a lit cigarette. "I see your brother smokes," Nick said apprehensively, his own ears splaying backwards slightly at the almost intimidating sight. If he wasn't clearly a rabbit, Nick would have mistaken his stare for predatory.

"Yup," Judy answered plainly, looking out at her brother herself. "He used to be a delinquent. Some habits die hard, I guess."

"Some?" Nick questioned pointedly. "Are there any other delinquent habits I should know about before we head up there?"

Judy laughed at his expression. "Don't tell me you're scared of a _tiny little_ rabbit, Mr. Fox. Come on, no time like the present. Get my crutches."

He snorted at her before looking back at the patient silhouette. "You sure you don't want me to carry you the whole way?"

Judy 'aww'ed at him before answering with a giggle. "That'd almost be sweet if I didn't know you just wanted a living shield."

Nick smiled at her, showing all of his teeth playfully. "Why can't I hit two birds with one stone?"

Humming at him, she turned on the bench so that her back was to him again. "Let's get to it then, oh marvelous stone thrower," she said with plenty of sarcasm.

Nick popped the door open and dropped down onto the packed earth, giving a passing smile to the silhouette who had still yet to move a muscle save for a few drags off of his bundle of fibers. He turned from the figure, looking back to the cab where Judy was still backing up to the edge of the seat. Picking her up carefully, he whispered in her ear, "He doesn't have a shotgun over there, does he?"

"You're real funny, Wilde," she shot up to the underside of his muzzle as she situated herself in his arms. "We're hicks, but we're not backwards. Now grow a spine and let's go talk to the mammal that is half your size."

 _It's not about size_ , he thought to himself as he closed the door of the cab and made his way to the back of the truck. _Big is a good enough example of that. Not to mention just how it was the shrew's family got into power in the first place._ Judy masterfully disentangled her crutches from the farm equipment while she was still in his arms, and she held them close to her as they turned and started walking towards the porch.

The rabbit staring at them took one more drag from his cigarette before throwing it onto the old wood of the porch and stepping it out with his bare paw. "Judy," he greeted in the flattest tone Nick had heard come from a bunny in his entire life.

"Harrison," she greeted back. "I see you're still up."

"Mhmm," he hummed at them, kicking the stamped out butt into the bushes that lined the porch before looking at the fox. "You must be Nick." The rabbit looked him up and down, sizing him up, fairly obviously. "I'd shake your paw, but," he looked at Judy. "I see you're hands are full."

Nick could see that this rabbit was slightly different from Judy; his gray fur was spotted with brown and black much more than her, and his eyes were set back into his skull from decades of backbreaking work, despite not looking a day over twenty-seven. His neutral flannel shirt hung off his frame loosely over a dark gray t-shirt, and his carpenter's jeans were patched at the knees. If Nick had seen him in the city, he would have assumed he was some grunge hipster that got stepped on in mosh pits, but out here he seemed more like a member of some backwater posse. He had been around enough criminals to know this rabbit wasn't a prime target. Nick was just hoping that he could not tell the same thing about him.

"It's nice to meet you," Nick smiled up at Harrison, trying his hardest to put on a mixture of the face he put on for criminals and the one he used for ordinary people, still not completely sure which one he was. "Judy told me about you."

Hare watched him intently, his furrowed brow slightly relaxing over the several seconds he studied Nick. "Nothin' but good things, I'm sure," he replied plainly. He backed up on the porch and gestured towards the door. "Best to get you upstairs, sis. The faster you're not..." he trailed off, appraising at the pair. "...About… The faster you'll heal."

"Yes," Nick spoke up quickly, cutting off whatever it was Judy was about to say, and Nick was glad for it by the look on her face. "That's a good idea," he continued, climbing the rickety steps of the enormous porch.

"Here, _Hare_ ," Judy threw disapprovingly at her brother, thrusting her crutches into his arms. "Be a _good_ host and open the door for us, would you?"

The rabbit sucked in a hissing breath through his buck teeth and turned for the door, making a good pace up to the entrance before opening a screen. Behind it was a split door, one that you could open the top and bottom separately, and was just barely tall enough for Nick to walk through without bumping his head, though his ears did scrap the frame as he passed through it. He followed Judy's pointing paw, remaining silent to keep from waking up this army that he heard was slumbering.

The interior of the house shrouded in darkness, but he could see it was all arched ceilings and faded, brightly colored wood. The floorboards were worn with use, and the space fit more rabbits than Nick wanted to think about. The aesthetic was soft enough, though it seemed to Nick that the neutral walls and bright trim weren't indicative of a peaceful atmosphere. When Nick moved through a doorway with Hare trailing behind, he was greeted with an unlit three story space lined with balconies and corridor entrances framing a number of couch circle sitting arrangements, an enormous metal chandelier hanging down into the room.

Nick whistled lowly. "Dang, Carrots. You never told me you were loaded."

"I'm not loaded, it's my family," she whispered to the underside of his chin, tickling his fur. "Besides, this burrow has been in our family for generations. Oh, there's the stairs," she said pointing to a humongous flight or wooden stairs. Nick had seen smaller flights that came out of the subway, and those accommodated elephants.

Reaching the top of the stairs, the room opened up into a wide open lounge like area that many other hallways led into. The roof peaked up high into the air, dark rafters reaching tall above the room. One side was a giant window. It looked out over the darkened rolling hills of farmland that enveloped the Burrows. The flat wooden floor was covered in cushioned mats; chairs and tables lined the walls, and were arranged in small circles around the edges of the room.

It was dim except for a little light that reflected off the other side from the window, which was a very flat wooden wall, its unexceptional color broken up by hundreds of pictures illuminated by spotlights that shone down dimly from the rafters. It almost completely covered the wall in a chaotic pattern, sprawling over the wood like a cloud of faces and bunnies. In the middle was a painted portrait of a pair of aged rabbits. Their matching fur and clothes stood out against the opaque background.

"I take it those two are you parents?" Nick questioned with interest.

Judy nodded her head up at him before pointing behind them and speaking, "The third story is up that way," she whispered.

Nick turned to see a slightly smaller flight flanking the first, reaching further up the structure. He also saw their rabbit tail watch him with apparent apprehension before he could return his face to a bored disinterest when Nick had turned. He ignored the observation and made his way up the seconds flight, shifting Judy in his grasp slight so he had a better hold.

The top of the flight led to one of the balconies that overlooked the enormous sitting room. Nick took one glance down over the railing before backing away from the edge to the center of the pathway. Corridors spaced out the walls beside them, leading into dark passages. He could see several other bunnies sitting at tables lining the balconies or on couches pressed up against the walls, but they were all more interested in what they were doing to pay them any mind.

"Where's Mom and Dad?" Judy questioned behind them at her brother in a hushed tone.

"Out," Hare replied abruptly. "Emergency meeting at town hall."

"What about," she inquired, cocking an eyebrow at him.

"Don't know," he mused, looking over the balcony at the room below them. "Something about how the mayor of Zootopia having been declared a domestic terrorist, and how a certain country hick is responsible for putting her there." He shrugged at her before continuing. "Something lame like that."

Nick smiled at that, still facing away from the male rabbit. _He might not be all bad after all_ , he thought. _A sense of humor is usually a good sign._ Judy didn't seem to think so, as she snorted at him before turning and digging herself further into Nick's arms. Immediately, he knew she was trying to get a rise out of her brother, and his breath hitched in his throat. Apologetically, he glanced behind him to look at Harrison, though he got nothing but an apathetic stare. _Doesn't seem overly hostile, at least_ , he thought, turning his vision back ahead of himself before turning into a dark corridor at Judy's prompting.

The hallway was plain enough, with its simple arched ceiling and plain hardwood floors. It followed the same faded color scheme, the rows of doors on both sides being light, dim colors. Some of them were a pale green, others a pale purple or even yellow, all pressed into the curved ceiling as if they were intersecting archways.

Soon, a familiar scent picked at the inside of his nose, and he stuck his snout into the air to take a long inhale. Behind the fiery scent of Judy's denim and Hare's burning nicotine, he could smell Judy's room. Following his nose around several corners, Judy settled into his arms, deciding that she did not need to direct him anymore. Finding the source, he stopped at a pale green doorway, a big, worn star hanging off of the painted wood that looked like a sheriff badge, Judy's name engraved into the soft wood. "I take it," Nick started. "That this is your room?"

"Really?" She giggled quietly up at him. "How did you guess? Was it the fact that you hunted it down by the scent or the fact that is has my name on it?"

Hare cleared his throat behind them, and moved to open the door. "Wait!" Judy called, making him pull his paw back like he had burned it, before looking at her confused. "I actually need to go in first. To - uh- do some things?" She looked up at Nick before continuing. "Put me down."

"Sure thing, your highness," Nick replied flatly, setting her down easily against the wall next to her door.

"Hare, could you help me in?" She asked to her brother. He mulled the thought over before handing the crutches over to Nick and putting his paws under her shoulders to support her weight. "Close your eyes," she pointedly ordered Nick, who only raised his eyebrow at her request. " _Now_ ," she breathed in her cop voice.

Nick chuckled, closing his eyes as a dull smile reached its way across his face. He heard the door first, but the second thing he felt was the wall of smell that hit him. His eyebrows raised as far as they could as he snuffed at the air in front of him for as long as he could until the door closed shut. He opened his eyes to the decorative star and thought about his options. Deciding finally that he did not care to give them the privacy she so wanted, he pressed his ear into the door and listened to the voices.

 _'You didn't tell me you were bringing a fox home,'_ Hare spoke quietly to his sister.

 _'Shut up, Hare,'_ Judy replied as he heard her hit a mattress with a relieved sigh. _'Just help me stash some stuff.'_

 _'Stash some stuff? What are you talking about?'_

 _'You see that thing over there, by the others? No, right there. The one thing that looks out of place in a group of similar but different things? Yeah, that.'_

 _'What the hell is this,'_ her brother breathed in disbelief. _'Are you serio-'_

 _'Hare, if we could, can we talk about it later?'_

 _'Talk about it later? Cheese and crackers, sis.'_

 _'Yeah, I know, Hare. Just-'_ She sighed heavily, cutting herself off. _'Hide it somewhere.'_

 _'Okay,'_ Hare trailed off. _'Hide it where?'_

 _'Doesn't matter. Just make it good and don't say where.'_

 _'What are you doing_ now _?'_ He hissed at her, dumbfounded.

 _'Closing my eyes, what does it look like?'_

 _'Why are you doing_ that _?'_

 _'Because I'll look at where you hid it, and he'll be able to figure it out. Also, try to be quiet. I imagine he's listening right now.'_

Nick heard a set of footfalls coming towards the door, and he quickly disentangled himself from the wood, stumbling backwards and turning around just as the door opened. "Wait further down the hall," Hare deadpanned at Nick, who didn't turn to look at him.

"You got it, pal," Nick offered, walking down the hallway out of earshot. _Didn't sound to happy that I was a fox_ , Nick mused to himself, studying some of the other arched doors around him. The first thing he noticed was how they all had names hanging off of them that started with the letter 'J'; Jordan, Jonathan, Jesse, Jessica, and so on. From where he was standing, he could almost make out a name that started with 'H' further down that hall. _This is unbelievable_ , Nick thought. _Just how many rabbits live in this hellscape?_

Nick suddenly felt small. The only fox for probably a hundred miles in any direction, he could only imagine that he was lost in a sea of bunnies. A sea that was currently sleeping, much to Nick's relief, but he couldn't fight the feeling that he wanted to get out of the place as fast as he could. Maybe he'd stay just long enough to make sure Judy was okay, but the idea of him _sleeping_ here ran a shiver down his spine. _I may have lost my touch_ , he thought, appraising a sign hanging off of one of the doors in the space of a flower with a buck tooth bite out of it. _But I'll be damned if I actually_ sleep _in the belly of this beast._

His ears stood to attention, swiveling forwards when he heard the sound of a door opening down the hall. They didn't last long, as they splayed back against his head when a tired little rabbit wandered out of a room that wasn't Judy's, rubbing her eyes. She took a few steps before spotting Nick and stopping dead in her tracks. Her expression froze as she looked at him, her mouth slightly open in a halted yawn for some seconds before her ears grew the size of dinner plates. She drew in a breath that Nick knew instantly was the precursor to the most terrifying thing he could think of: a scream that could wake the sleeping sea.

"Woah -" Nick started hurriedly, waving his arms around. "I'm not a burglar, I'm a friend of your sister's!" He stuttered out, tripping over his words as he pointed with his clawed paw down the hall at Judy's door.

The small rabbit could only stare at his claws when he waved his paws about, and the teeth that shone from underneath his lips as he spoke. She gaped at him until speaking carefully, "W-which s-s-sister?"

Nick couldn't tell how old she was, but he could only guess early teens. He gave her his best closed-mouth smile, as genuinely as possible. "Judy."

The rabbit deflated instantly, slouching her shoulders and rolling her eyes as she turned from him. "Figures," she grumbled, walking away. "It just figures she's leading foxes right into the house." Her voice carried less and less as she walked down the hall, tapering off while still grumbling, her shoulders high in irritation. "Why not? Why not just invite an entire _pack_ of wolves in here while you're at it…"

The door leading to Judy's room opened at the noise, and Harrison poked his head out to witness the small rabbit walk down the hall, cursing her sister the whole way. He turned his eyes over to Nick and scowled at him. "Get in here, fox," he whispered loudly. "If she had woken up anyone else, you'd be a fur coat."

"I got that impression already, thank you," Nick replied grudgingly, trotting quickly past him and into Judy's room. The smell hit him first, distracting him enough to stumble instantly, toppling over a set of stairs just beyond the door a few steps before catching himself on a low-hanging archway framing the entrance into the space. It smelled like Judy, but a lot stronger, as if it was concentrated. _She must have marked every inch of the damn room_ , he thought to himself, his nostrils flaring to catch more.

The room had a short horseshoe shape, with the stares curving around a barrier that stood out from the wall through the middle. Half of the room was angular, like you would expect, while the other half curved with the sloping ceiling. Her room seemed to sit at the edge of two sections of the house. One section towered further above, while the other gave way to a rounded roof.

On the square side of the room, Nick stood on the staircase that led up to the old wooden door that Hare was closing behind him. The floors were a polished hardwood, looking worn with age. Judy sat on a bed set against the wall after the staircase. Positioned on the side of the room without the barrier, it almost reached both walls. Giving away the fact that it was a very small space.

On the other side of the dividing wall from the staircase, a large desk was nestled into the alcove with an open arched window situated above it, blowing cool air through the room. Stuck to much of the space on the desk was a variety of police academy material. Books, fliers, rolled posters, and a whirring desktop sat in chaotic order. Various side tables and dressers finished the edges of the cozy living quarters, posters and papers littered the walls, swaying gently in the movement of the night air.

"Wow, Carrots," Nick breathed, looking around the room. He made a point of pretending like he hadn't noticed Hare's entire face scrunch up at the nickname. "I was wondering how all of the doors were so close to each other. They really pack you people in these things, don't they?" Nick questioned, looking at Judy. She was sitting on the bed, surrounded on all sides by stuffed rabbits. There must have been sixty of them, and Nick's jaw went slack as he traded his vision between Judy and her bed.

"I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt," she started sassily. "And ignore that little comment."

"Come on now," he smiled at her as he meandered over to the edge of the bed in front of her, setting her crutches against it. Nick reached beside her, leaning towards her pretty closely, and picked up a rabbit that was next to her. He turned it over in his hands before glancing down at her with a smug smile. "You were right. This is a _lot_ more than ten."

"You can look, but don't _touch_ ," she shot at him, snatching the rabbit out of his claws and setting it back down next to her.

"Oh, yeah?" Nick lazily muttered, looking down at her with lidded eyes. "There's not much too look at. I expected more Gazelle posters." He commented, leaning back into his heals with a smile splitting his face.

"They're rolled up on the desk, actually," she answered up at him, leaning back into her collection.

"Of course they are," he chuckled dryly. "No dreamy reynard posters or hunk fox calendars, though. A little disappointed by that one."

"Oh, I had to throw the calendar out when I got to August," she played along. "Turns out, a fox in a firemammal's uniform hit too close to home, and nearly broke my emotional little bunny heart."

Nick let out a low howl of amusement. "That's oddly specific, Carrots," he playfully shot at her. "You better be careful, or I'm actually going to start to think that calendar is the thing you stashed." Looking at her warmly, he continued. "I might have to get the confession out of you by force," Nick growled, leaning down to where he was inches from Judy's face.

"Did you forget that I am standing right here, fox," Harrison commented flatly across the room from the stairs.

"Nope," he quipped back, still staring into Judy's eyes. "You heard the lady. I can look." _Have you got a deathwish, Wilde_ , he questioned to himself. _It seems like every few minutes you've figured out a new way to put our hide on the line._

"I think she was talking about the room," the male rabbit sighed back. "If you want her to feel uncomfortable, just look around for that little _gem_ I just stashed," he grumbled, looking behind himself at the door, probably thinking of an escape route. "I wish it was something innocuous like a _calendar_ ," he whispered.

Chuckling at Judy's expression, he turned and moved to the doorway that Hare currently resided in, and stuck out his paw in the rabbit's direction. "My paws aren't full anymore," Nick said, smiling at the grungy looking mammal. _Play it cool, Nick_ , he thought. _You may have lost your mind, but you haven't lost your skill. Just be diplomatic about it. Shake his paw and try something you should have been doing all damn day: neutralizing another threat._

"So they aren't," he replied boredly, taking the outstretched paw with a strong grip, much stronger than Nick's. They shook only twice before detaching at the same time, still staring at each other. Standing on the stairs, Hare was almost Nick's height, and was able to glare into his eyes without having his smaller stature diminish the effect. The lazy smile on the fox's face shifted slightly when the rabbit began to speak again. "I've been told you've got a train to catch," he finally broke the silence.

"I do," Nick mused, looking behind himself at Judy, who was watching the exchange with interest. When he turned back, the rabbit was already at the top of the stairs, having moved completely silently. "Though, it's not for another twenty minutes."

"I'll drive you," the rabbit shot back as he opened the door. "I'm sure you'll be able to find your way back to the porch. Don't take long," he finished, closing the door slightly louder than he needed to.

Nick swiveled to face Judy, making a low barking noise as he looked at her with an exasperated expression. She giggled at him, gesturing for him to come further back into the room. "That's my brother for you. A little rough around the edges, but he's got a good heart," she smiled up at him. "I guess I'm just drawn to those types of mammals, apparently."

"Ha," Nick breathed, sitting down on the chair in front of the small desk. "Small room, Fluff. I imagined something a little bigger for a rabbit that's larger than life."

"Small for you, maybe," she said, lounging back into her army of fake rabbits. "It's just the right size for me. It's probably even smaller than the place I was renting back in Zootopia."

"Surprising. I heard rent over in Little Rodentia was pretty high," Nick said, watching her look around the room and how her smile grew slightly at his little joke. "The ZPD must have given you a pretty big signing bonus if you were able to rent so much square cheese cubes of floor space."

Judy snorted at that and looked fondly at him, before her expression soured slightly, though never losing its bright grin. "I guess you have to head back, huh?" She asked sadly.

He nodded his head at her slowly, examining her reaction. "Had to eventually," he hummed to her. "I can't sit in here with you for the entire week, now can I?"

"I wish you could," she pouted. "It's going to be so boring in here for a whole week with nothing to do. What am I going to do when you're not around to annoy me, huh?"

"Whatever you did before we met, I guess," Nick quipped.

"No, not a chance," she said shaking her head vigorously before taking out her phone. "That's even more boring than doing nothing. Give me your phone number so we can text while I'm bedridden."

"No can do, Carrots," Nick said, weaving his paws behind his head and leaning back into the office chair. "I don't have a phone."

Judy stopped what she was doing on her phone, and her face fell to a completely neutral expression, losing the smile he had gotten used to. "What do you mean you don't have a phone?" She inquired, looking up at him.

"It means exactly what it sounds like?" Nick rhetorically asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.

"What the hell, Nick," Judy hissed, causing Nick to shrink someone from her glare. "Do I have to run around, looking for Finnick's van after I get back to the city before I can even talk to you again? How am I supposed to get ahold of you?"

"It's not a big deal," Nick breathed, lowering his paws from behind his head. _You see_ , he thought. _This is what I'm talking about when I say you don't think things through. What_ exactly _possessed you to think that she'd just leave it at that?_

"Not a big deal?" She scoffed at him, her brow furrowing in irritation. "You're my friend, Nick. Or did you miss that part?" Judy crossed her arms to stare daggers at him, scowling deeper and deeper as the conversation progressed. "How am I supposed to accept the fact that you're just going to vanish back into the city every time we part ways?"

"Hey, calm down," Nick eased, raising his hands in defeat. "It's just a week. I'll come by the ZPD and we can get together about setting up a penpalship then."

"No, Nick. I'm not going to calm down," she seethed. _Probably at that penpal comment, slick_ , he thought. _So much for being diplomatic._ "You can't go and make a bunny feel special like that and then just hit the road. I've got half a mind to get Harrison to keep you here."

 _Go and make a bunny feel what?_ He thought. _Is this rabbit for real?_ "What do you want me to say, Carrots?" He questioned heatedly. "I'd give you a phone number if I had one, but I don't, so where are we now? What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know, Nick," Judy choked, her angry expression faltering when her voice hitched so obviously. "I just thought-" She cut herself off before she could continue, wiping the bottom of her eyelids with her palms before sniffing loudly, attempting to control her emotions.

 _Where does this bunny get off_ , he thought. _Does she really think I'll fall for that distraught bunny schtick twice in one day?_ "Hold it right there, Cottontail," he cut in. _Careful Nick. She could be quite serious about it._ "You don't get to use those tears on me this time. I've seen through your conniving rabbit ways," Nick mocked, his teeth coming into view slightly more than usual. _Not likely_ , he quieted his mind. _Play me once, shame on you. Play me twice? That's on me. Like a lot of things today. I've been played twice too many times in just a few hours. It's not happening again._

"You wish I was playing you," she sniffed, hardening her expression again so she could head straight back into the argument, steadfast. "That way you could go on thinking there wasn't anybody out there that cared, huh?" She asked, wiping another tear before it could form.

Nick watched her for several moments, his piercing emerald eyes searching hers for any hint of a hustle. He had gotten good spotting a play when he was looking for it. He might miss the occasional trick when he wasn't paying attention, but when Nick Wilde zeroed down on a target, he was a walking lie detector. _Shit,_ he thought plainly. _I went and told you, Nick_. _It's your fault for throwing that trust you've felt all gooey with pride for in her face_."You're a grown rabbit, Fluff. Pull yourself together," he whispered steadily, getting up from the office chair and taking the one step required to make it over to the desk.

He searched through the chaotic clutter, looking for a piece of blank paper or something of the sort. Finding nothing but pens, he moved onto the attached shelf for something to write _on_ , having no luck on the desk proper. Nick found another collection of stuffed rabbits here, older than the huge assortment on Judy's bed. The biggest one, which also seemed to be the oldest, had strings and stuffing stuck out at the seams, one of the button eyes was hanging by a thread. The most interesting thing about it was an ancient ZPD Junior Police Detective sticker, like the one Judy had given to Finnick, that was stuck across the front of the fake rabbit's shirt.

Resting on the old rabbit was a pad of sticky notes, neatly draped against its lap. Nick moved to take the pad, but hesitated when a familiar scent found its way into his nose. Sticking his nose closer to the rabbit, he snuffed the air around it, attempting to place what it was. Having no such luck, he just snatched the pad and started walking towards the bed. He noticed Judy was looking at him with an incredibly worried expression, but he brushed it off.

"Tell you what," he huffed as he threw himself down on her bed next to her, retrieving his pen from his pant's pocket as he did so. "Give me your number, and I'll call you on a payphone every night of the week until you finally get bored of me." He glanced over to her and noticed her expression soften immensely before her smile returned to her.

Judy took the pad out of his paw as quickly as possible. "Never," she beamed. "I don't think I could get bored of you if you tried. You're very welcome to try, though."

"Uh-huh," he puffed exasperatedly. "Why don't you just focus on getting better, and I'll get back to my life of being most handsome fox in Zootopia," Nick smiled at her, taking the phone number she had written down and his pen. "Then we can both take time out of our _important_ days, and I can help you get over your fascination with a certain _'shifty lowlife'_ by boring you to death. We'll talk about the weather, sports, the whole nine yards."

"It won't be boring in the slightest, Wilde," She punched him in the arm playfully before leaning slightly into him. "I actually think talking to shifty lowlifes is incredibly fun."

"Oh yeah?" Nick questioned, propping himself up on one arm to give her a better angle to lean on him. "You talk to a lot of them, then?"

"Nope, just one," Judy smiled. "The one I _have_ talked with was the most fun I've had in years, though. So I'd say it's a pretty good bet."

"Years, huh? Maybe I should take you around town when you get back then. It might help how stuck up you can be at times."

She looked up at him with her deep amethyst eyes, a smile splitting her face to show her enormous buck teeth. "Yeah," she trailed off. "I'd like that."

Nick relaxed into the position, a lazy smile having taken his face some time ago without him permission. Still, he had to make his exit before he could allow that floor to start to look comfortable. "I have to..." Nick trailed off.

"Right," Judy flatly answered, straightening up away from her position of leaning on him.

"So, I'm gonna..." He stated, getting up slowly from the rabbit covered bed.

"Yup, you've gotta go," she said up to him. "Can't miss that train."

"Nope, can't do that. I'll talk to you tomorrow then?" Nick asked, looking down at her. When she nodded happily at him, he continued. "What time do you guys have dinner in this hellish commune?"

Judy giggled at his low opinion of her burrow. "Around six."

"So, how about eight-thirty?"

"Sounds good to me."

"Okay," he said, backing up towards the door. "I'm going. For real this time."

"Get out of here, fox," she laughed at him as she got more comfortable, leaning back into the bed on her elbows. Her ears were slightly lopsided with exhaustion. "You'll miss the train for sure if you keep saying goodbye."

"You're right," He smiled back, turning to leave. "See you later, Cottontail," Nick called over his shoulder.

"Oh! Wait!" She called to him, stopping Nick in his tracks.

"What?" Nick turned back to her from the bottom of the steps.

"If you do miss the train, please come come back here, alright?" She breathed, watching him sadly. "I don't want you to be sleeping on some bench."

"Of course," he lied. "You'll have to make room in that little avalanche, though. No way am I going to be sleeping without a bodyguard in this place."

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" She smiled gingerly. "Nope, you'll be sleeping on the floor, for sure."

"Oh, if it comes to that," Nick quipped across the room. "I'm going to make sure no one is sleeping in that be-" He was cut off by a stuffed rabbit hitting him right in the face.

"Go!" She got out between fits of giggles. "I know you really don't want to stay, so hit the road before you have to chase the dang train down the tracks!"

"Jeez. Okay," Nick chuckled, walking further up the stairs. "I'm going."

"Later, Slick," she called.

"Bye, Fluff," Nick called back over his shoulder, taking hold of the doorknob.

"Hey!"

"What now?" He huffed, looking behind him at the lazily resting bunny.

"Thanks," she said, almost in a whisper, her genuine expression taking Nick by surprise.

He smiled at her warmly. "Any time, Fluff," he shot back, ducking his head to walk out the door. "Any time."

Nick closed the door behind him, and looked back down the hall. It was just as dark as he remembered. Having left the comfortably dim lights of Judy's room behind, he settled his vision back into the dark. Making his way through the house again, he took more time to study the features. It seemed to him that the house more closely resembled an ant colony than a mammal one, with nothing but curved edges and organically shaped spaces. If it wasn't for the (somewhat) adherence to a floor plan with stories stacked directly on top of each other, he wouldn't have thought it even slightly resembled a home. It was more funhouse than burrow.

He made his way quickly through the large three storied common room and trotted down the steps into the enormous space with one of the largest windows he had ever seen opposite of the picture wall, which was one of the largest _picture walls_ he had ever seen. Standing right up against the window, looking out over the dark countryside, Hare was standing with his paws in his pockets. Nick strolled up beside him, holding his own paws behind his back thoughtfully.

They both watched the shadowed rolling hills for some time before Hare spoke. "How did you come to know my sister?"

"She threatened to arrest me, actually," Nick smiled, recalling the memory.

"I know that much," he murmured. "I'm asking how you've come to be so close as to drive her all the way out here," he said finally, looking up at him with an expectant expression.

Nick watched the rabbit out of the corner of his eye before tilting his own muzzle in his direction. "Maybe I felt like I owe her that much."

"After she threatened you with incarceration?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"It wasn't all bad," he said, waving his snout from side to side in deliberation. "She's got a way of making blackmail feel like one of the best things to happen to me in awhile."

Hare hummed at the fox, turning his head back out the window. The pair settled into silence, watching the quiet night just beyond the enormous pane of glass, both deep in thought. "Why did you lie to her, then?"

Nick glanced down at the rabbit and spoke, "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

"Is that because you can't tell _which_ lie I'm talking about," the smaller mammal spoke harshly. "Or is it because you're just playing coy?"

Nick turned his eyes back to the countryside before speaking. "Are you saying that because I'm a fox, or because you've got proof I'm a no-good liar?" Nick egged, smiling wickedly at the rabbit.

"I figure that if you're lying about taking the train tonight," the rabbit finally replied. "You also probably lied about _why_ you're supposedly taking the train tonight."

"It wasn't a lie," Nick eased. "It was a half-truth."

"Which part was the truth?"

"The part where I don't want to stay the night here."

Hare hummed again at that, thinking it over. "I hope you realize," he started in a low tone. "That looking up departure times on the internet is something that Judy might be doing as we speak."

"I think I did a pretty good job convincing her I was getting on the one-fifteen, actually," Nick smiled lazily, content with his little play.

"They don't run the one-fifteen, anymore," Hare corrected, looking up at the fox narrowly. "That goes through Deerbrooke now."

"Yeah," he trailed off faintly. "But it wasn't hard to convince her they changed it back. I figure I've still got forty, forty-five minutes before she catches wise. And that's if she stays awake that long."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that number, fox," he spoke easily. "She has a habit of checking that sort of thing for herself, no matter how good a liar you are." Hare kept looking out the dark window for several moments before speaking again. "It's part of her whole 'rehabilitation' routine."

"Are you saying I'm in dire need of rehabilitation?" Nick shot back, lazily tracing the edges of the hills with his superior night vision. Knowing they were not seeing the same thing despite looking out the same window always amused Nick. He couldn't help but feel that he didn't know how mammals without night vision managed. "Seemed to me like she's made a habit of it," he finally uttered. "Looking at you, anyway."

"Somewhat," the male rabbit replied hoarsely. "Though, it seems she has bit off more than she can chew this time."

"Harsh words," Nick chirped, smiling widely out the window, showing all of his teeth. "How'd she convince you, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I was gettin' too old for what I was doing," he shrugged. "All she really had to do was point that out."

"Yeah," Nick laughed. "I know what you mean." _'Especially not some jerk, who never had the guts to try to be anything more than a popsicle hustler'_ , her words echoed in his mind. "...All she had to do was point it out," Nick spoke calmly, shaking his head.

The pair settled into silence once again, enjoying the quiet slumber of the hundreds of rabbits all around them. The Hopps' family farm was certainly an alien environment to Nick, though he was starting to thank it for existing. After all, without it he would have never met Judy. Maybe even in a weird way, being born out here in the bonnies was what made her follow him into that Café. He never imagined he'd be glad for someone to stereotype him so much. "Can I ask you a question," Nick broke the silence.

"Already did," the rabbit deadpanned.

"No," Nick smiled down at the rabbit, who was too busy looking out into nothing to return his gaze. "I wanted to ask about the fox repellent she was wearing when we met."

Hare tore his vision from the window and looked at the fox with an indiscernible expression for several seconds, before turning to look back out the window. "As I understand it," he started. "Dad gave it to her when she left for the city. Tried to pawn off some deterrent and a taser, too."

"Really," he questioned interestedly. "Did they clear out the whole catalog?"

"Hell if I know," Hare shrugged back. "That taser's still floating around somewhere, though. Might be a good idea to watch yourself on your way out."

"Always," Nick replied, his smile fading as he thought it over. "Why'd she just take the repellent, then?"

"She told me she just took it to get them to quit being all jittery," he offered lazily. "I suppose there's no way to know for sure."

"So you think she really has a problem with foxes?"

Hare didn't speak for some time, mulling the idea over in his head. "She," he started slowly, as if he wasn't sure if he should tell Nick. "Had a problem with a fox in the past."

Nick's smile faded completely, and he turned back to the window. "Is that what those marks on her face are from?"

"Yeah," he said hushly, looking behind them at the stairs, just to make sure Judy wasn't standing right there, listening in. "She acted like it didn't bother her for the longest time. Hell, she came skipping back into the festival with those claw marks like she just tripped." He shook his head. "I don't know how much it really bothered her. I guess more than I thought if she was carrying that thing around."

"What happened to the fox?"

Hare looked up at Nick, searching his eyes. The rabbit turned away from both Nick and the window, strolling over to a coach to flop down onto. "He's nice enough these days, though we don't really get along, what with what happened afterwards."

"With what happened afterwards?" Nick questioned from his spot by the window.

"Yeah," Harrison said tiredly, looking back over to the picture wall where the giant portrait of his parents were. "I broke his paw," he stated flatly. Hare just stared at the picture wall for awhile, his expression not changing at all. "Must have had a cast on it until the harvest festival. I heard he still can't retract his claws very easily." the rabbit looked back at Nick. "That's why he never got in serious trouble for what he did. Because I wanted some kind of petty revenge."

He sighed heavily, looking out the window once again. "She didn't talk to me a whole lot after I did that."

"I can imagine," Nick softly replied, turning to look back out the window himself.

"Where are you going to go," Hare broke the silence again.

Nick turned to smile at the rabbit. "I'm going to walk. We passed the train station on our way in, so I know where it is," he nonchalantly explained. "By the time I finally get there, I should only have to wait a couple hours until the six forty-five rolls through."

The male rabbit hummed at him thoughtfully before easing into the coach. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out," he deadpanned, staring up into the dark rafters.

"What a gracious host," Nick chuckled, moseying his way towards the stairs that lead back down onto the first floor. "You have yourself a nice night, Hare Hopps."

"Hey, fox!" Hare called out to him from across the space. Nick turned to meet his glare. "Rehabilitation is a long way up, and a short way down," he suggested flatly. "If you take the short fall with my sister, I'll be sure to _follow_ you," his voice hardening several degrees and losing all of its rounded edges. "I already told you I can take a fox in a fight."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," Nick shot back with a lazy smile, lidded eyes meeting the rabbit's hard glare. He turned and started making his way down the stairs, and out of sight from the rabbit staring daggers into his back.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **No point it spending a bunch of time line editing the whole damned chapter to get it right. I'm not happy with a lot of it, but whatever. It's serviceable.**

 **Anyway, I actually considered dropping this entire chapter and starting over. There's far too much clunky environmental detail and exposition. I also don't like Harrison. Not as a character, he's fine I suppose; I guess I just don't like the idea of making up original characters in a story where I'm trying my hardest to keep it as close to the film as possible. They weren't supposed to have that final conversation at the end. He was just supposed to have a brief place and then be gone, but I thought it might have some bearing on the story to include it. Certainly a lot better conversation than the one I wrote between Nick and Judy. Either I've lost the rhythm, or it's just starting to get clear that I never had it in the first place. That's pretty worrying.  
**

 **I said that I have to write characters and events that fill in the gaps left by the film, and that I have to do that in the most authentic and beholden to canon way possible, but I'm not sure if I'm stretching with this rabbit kicking the crap out of Gideon when they were younger. I guess the thought that he got off scot free for what he did never really sit with me, and having the parents declare an uneasy truce without pressing charges in either direction fit close enough. I also feel that I might be straying from Judy's canon somewhat to set up the idea that she's got a streak for 'fixing up' the disreputable sort. My thought process comes from two things: One, she believe in the rule of law and how every mammal deserves a second chance, and two, she was so easy to give Nick that police academy form (in my mind showing that she was more than willing to 'fix up' Nick). Still, I'm not so sure.**

 **I'm going to stay far away from original characters that have anything to do with important exposition/important character motivation for the rest of the story. It served its purpose here, but I'm certainly not making a habit out of it. I also think I can get away with being concise about some environmental detail. I mean, I've written probably 24k of dialogue in total of a 28k story (not including this chapter). I really don't want to just say something simple when, in my mind's eye, Judy's house is effectively alien. You've seen the Museum, I don't have to explain it. You've seen a hospital, I don't have to explain it. You know what a small-town diner looks like, I don't have to explain it. Judy's house? I thought it deserved some _actual_ environmental detailing. Now I am thinking I probably could have gotten away with a lot less if I went for a simpler structure. "It looked like a big mound in the dirt, not dissimilar to a large hill, though its particularly even distribution accompanied with the marinade of windows, doorways, and balconies jutting out of the earth did much to betray its more purposeful, and probably quite a bit more _hollow_ , existence." Or something of the sort. Oh, well. I am a first time writer after all. Can't expect to keep that track of stumbling my way into acceptability for long, now can I?  
**

 **Oh, and no more notes after this chapter. I think I've made my point with everything that I'm worried about with this story, so any more notes is just going to be me repeating myself. Leave a review, PM me with any grammar mistakes you've caught, you know the drill.**


	5. It's the buzzard or the bear

_1:38 am, September 14th_

* * *

The cold September air weaved its way through Nick's clothing, rustling his fur and robbing him of his warmth. The clouds appeared lower now, the wind having dragged the thicker billows of darkness along with it. Despite the ominous atmosphere, the countryside rolled through the vast emptiness much like the clouds above it; the quiet nature breezed along with the wind in contented surrender under the moonless sky.

It was alien to Nick, probably even more so than Judy's home. He had spent more time than he would like to admit in situations that didn't agree with him, surrounded by mammals that would just as soon see him vanish than look in his direction. The bunny's commune was eerily similar to another collection of like mammals in Tundratown. Although the rabbits were a far cry from the towering walls of muscle and razor sharp edges of Koslov's Palace, Nick couldn't help but find enough of a likeness to not want to sleep within fifty miles of it.

It's either the buzzard or the bear that gets you. That was something that Nick's grandfather had taught him. The premise was simple enough; it was either this world that killed you, or you lived long enough for the buzzard to get you anyway. A grim concept to teach an eleven year old mammal at his own mother's funeral, but it had kept him alive for as far back as he'd like to remember. Part of that teaching involved being very careful where you slept, being more than sure to be as far away from other mammals as possible. Not sleeping as the only fox in a rabbit burrow was included in that precaution, he knew that for sure.

 _'Do you want to know how I cheated the bear?'_ His grandfather had asked him when her casket was being lowered into the rocky soil far to the west of the city. _'I cheated him by surviving. By looking over my shoulder. I'm alive today because there's nothing he can take_ aw _ay from me anymore, but you can't beat the buzzard. He comes for us all.'_ The old vulpine had taught Nick a lot over the years. Many of it stuck so hard it had become his nature to do it, but over the past day he was beginning to think that it wasn't sticking as hard as he thought it had. Maybe it never stuck, and Nick just needed someone to show him that.

No, the reason Nick found this environment to be so alien was the gross indifference that he could feel all around him. In the city, there was nary a brick or dead plant that didn't have a hateful mammal underneath, secretly wishing for the death of every vulpine, or so it felt like sometimes. The countryside was much different. The bear was the only thing you had to worry about in the city, the constant threat of the world and its mammals. Away from the city, you could feel the indifferent stare of the bird of prey. A buzzard circling above without any malice or contempt, but a tacit belief that its patience and perseverance would always succeed where the bear's blind hate could fail.

Out here, it was different. With no way to run from the vast emptiness, he was left with no discernible direction. No endless chase to occupy his thoughts. No goal in sight but for the memory that there existed a something beyond this vast range of gloom downpouring from the thick cloud cover in the dead of night. There was nothing to run from but the buzzard. A concept that Nick knew his grandfather meant as the force of time itself, and since he felt for the first time in his life like he was beyond thirty years old, and had nothing but a handful of stashes hidden throughout a city more than two-hundred miles from him and the clothes on his back, Nick believed he was doing a very poor job at that.

He had to wonder if that's why Judy was the way she was. Why she didn't seem to even pay the bear any mind. Why she almost laughed at it, throwing its preconceptions and false authority right back into its face. She seemed to think that he was small game. Like it wasn't even worth her time to confront him outside of when he stepped directly into her path. Maybe it was because she had seen something Nick hadn't. Something that hung in the air above our heads. The idea that you could spend a lifetime fighting the bear, but it'll never make up for what he made you give up to do it.

 _Smells like rain_ , Nick thought to himself. _That would start to make up for it all, wouldn't it? My day has been a little too good._ He kicked a small stone down the shoulder of the road, ticking across the pavement as it tumbled away. _Building up all of this good luck is going to bite me soon_ , he mused, looking over the vast field of growing produce through the clouded night. _Can't expect_ that's _going to be fun._

 _Whatever happened to being a house without foundation, Wilde_ , he sauntered, taking deep breaths of the cold autumn air to pick out every minute scent. _You can't knock over something that isn't ever upright in the first place. You can only push it in a different direction._

Nick snorted dramatically. _Not much of a home_ , his thought trailed off, shaking his resolve, forcing him to stop and study the agricultural fields. The neat rows of crops curved out into the distance, the even lines giving way to a haze of carrots tops as it spread towards the horizon. _Home is where you make it, Nick. You've been good on your own, or did you forget that?_ Nick wondered.

 _I would hope that I'm good at it_ , he thought back. _I've had enough practice_. Sighing, Nick turned away from the field and continued down the road. He had been walking for awhile now, and still had a long way to go. Maybe he should start thinking about looking for a comfortable corrugated pipe before long, and just catch a train tomorrow. He had to be back in town at least by eight-thirty, so that he could make that phone call, but before then he really had no reason to be back in town.

Would he have to deal with the consequences of his actions when he made that phone call? He wasn't sure. Obviously, a lie like the one he spun wasn't going to stay in the dark forever. It was just a matter of when. Would Hare tell her years down the line, far after it would even matter, or was she barreling towards him like a bat out of hell, in a pickup truck whose bumper had his name on it, _right now_? Nick was hopeful for the former.

He was just glad he even knew about the one-fifteen train. It wasn't a case of just knowing everything, though he made a pretty good effort keeping up the illusion. Nick had looked up train departure times when they were at the diner. It wasn't as hard as it seems, even though putting it into words had the effect of making it seem like some masterful feat.

Which mammal to swipe their phone from wasn't hard. It was just a matter of determining who was most likely to either not have a password, or have one that he could guess. Was it something of a stretch to assume the ocelot that served them wasn't very tech savvy, and that the wallet phone case that stuck out of her frilly apron would have been child's play to lift? No, not really.

Was it so surprising that Nick had cracked the pin number in the bathroom in fifty seconds flat? He didn't think so, what with enough pictures and dates littering the inside of the nylon case to rival that of a family photo album. He tried the ocelot's wedding date first, carefully written on the back of a snippet of an invitation, kept for the memory no doubt. He tried the year she was born next to her husband's, then reversed it. Then he tried the month she was born next to her husband's, and when he reversed that the phone unlocked without a problem.

Nick had wondered if mammals like him would be out of a job if everyone just caught wise one day. Maybe it was just the fact that most mammals were so clueless that animals like him existed. However he felt about it, he couldn't help the bark of laughter that accompanied that accepted pin, having startled the only other mammal using the bathroom. The day everyone stopped using sentimental dates as their important passcodes was the day Nick Wilde would shave his tail.

 _Should have tried Fluff's_ , he thought, ticking his claws rhythmically onto the pavement. _I bet it's the number of siblings she has or the date she graduated from the academy… Or a fifteen digit monster accompanied by a facial scan_. It was hard to tell which one would be funnier. It wouldn't be so easy to guess as the ocelot was, that's for sure. Maybe he should have just asked their waitress to use her phone discretely, or told her after the fact that dates are a horrible passcode.

Still, it was a victimless crime. He had returned her phone to her by dropping it under their table and sliding it across the diner closest to her that he could, having not faltered in the slightest keeping up with the enthralling conversation he was having with Judy as he did so. The waitress just thought that she had dropped it on accident and hadn't noticed. Completely victimless. That is, unless she didn't have unlimited data. In which case, he technically stole a couple fractions of a cent. And invaded her privacy. Nick didn't often dwell on that last part, but tonight he had seldom let it leave his mind.

Maybe it was the fact that he had spent a lot of time in the past day doing nothing but good. The case, helping Judy, not wavering from the path of the upstanding citizen. It just figures that he had to go and taint the day by stealing someone's phone so he could research a lie that he was already twisting in his head. Not all that surprising, unfortunately. Nick knew he wasn't a good mammal. He knew that the things he had done in his life don't exactly scream a good nature, but he had been off the bad stuff for years now. Still, something as innocuous as _borrowing_ a cell phone was getting to him more than some of the harder jobs he did for the Family would.

Ever since the thing with the rug, he moved back into the easy hustle. Sure, it wasn't exactly lucrative, but he figured it was a whole lot safer. It's really not like he was using the money for much, anyway. The most expensive things he technically owned were inherited, and the biggest costs in his life chalked up to canned bugs and fish jerky. It wasn't glamorous by any means, but it was comfortable.

It still amazed him on some summer nights, looking over the entire city from the mountain, he felt the freedom of being able to turn away from the metropolis and just walk. Nothing tying him down, or holding him back. He was free to leave whenever. _'I'm alive today because there's nothing he can take_ aw _ay from me anymore'_ , his grandfather's words echoed. Nick couldn't help but wonder if it was worth it. Freedom comes with a cost. It's the price of having nothing to lose. Having _no one_ to lose.

Nick knew the old vulpine that had twisted his idea of the world held no particular malice. He wasn't the way he was because he simply hated the world. Nick had seen it in his eyes at the funeral. A familiarity that only comes with routine. He had buried enough Wildes. They were the last two left, and it had happened that way because Nick had listened. Perhaps the thing with the rug was just a reminder. A way for him to tell Nick that he was getting too close, that he was settling.

 _Or maybe he just thought it would be funny_ , he thought bitterly, noticing a light further down the road. _Maybe he was getting the feeling that I learned too much, and was going to outlive him._ Nick snorted at the thought. It was difficult to understand his motives at the best of times. The old conmammal had occupied enough identities and fake personas that you really could not tell where the face ends and the mammal begins. _Now, doesn't that sound familiar_ , he mused. _For all your talk of dismissal, you sure did come out just like him._

The light was growing as he made his way slowly down the quiet road. From here, he could not tell what exactly its purpose was, but it was a storefront of some kind. Probably a grocery or fuel station. With his constant walking, it did not take him long to reach the building, revealing it was neither of those things. 'Amadio Pharmaceuticals' was written across the front entrance in swirling neon tubing, a simple armadillo shape holding a pill bottle coming over the top of the lettering, in a similar swirling neon design.

 _Didn't Carrots say she got that carrot pen from a pharmacy in Bunnyburrow_ , Nick thought to himself, seeing a bright 'open twenty-four seven' sign hanging on the inside of one of the windows. _It'd be kinda nice to have one of those for myself_ , he continued, peering around the small parking lot for something that could aid the idea. _She might want another one, too. Since her's is in an evidence locker for the foreseeable future._

Spotting a clothes donation bin on the other side of the angular lot, he made his way over to it in the hope that he could find something unassuming to walk into the store in. Being a fox, he had long since known that is wasn't a good idea to just walk into a store as is. It's one of the reasons he had crafted so many docile identities. To get prey to not immediately think you're going to rob or hurt them, you've got to at least look like an everyday mammal. Sweater vests and dress pants, that sort of thing.

 _Or_ , his thoughts seemed to suggest. _You could walk in there like you are and ask nicely._ Nick momentarily stopped his perusing of mostly rabbit sized clothing to mull over the thought. It seemed ridiculous to him, really. Why would he take the chance of being thrown out if he had better ways of mitigating risk? _You have just shown up on their doorstep_ , he reminded himself. _And now you are rummaging around a clothing donation bin to find an appropriate disguise. All for the very_ nefarious _activity of buying a carrot pen recorder._

Nick sighed, and threw his handful of cloth back into the bin so that he could sit down against the metal container. As he plopped down onto the hard pavement, he ran his clawed paw over his head, smoothing back his ears in thought. _Don't do it Nick_ , he warned. _Do not allow yourself to go easy. If you start getting lazy now, you're days are as good as numbered._

 _Aren't they already numbered_ , he thought, looking over the vast fields of produce on the other side of the street. _Didn't the hardened criminal Nick Wilde just spend the day working for the cops and playing good Samaritan for a bunny?_ He snorted into the cool air, abrasively dismissing of the thought. _My time with the rabbit will come to an end_ , he shot back. _I still have to live forever._ Nick stared down at the hard ground in thought, unable to reconcile the fact that he really _was_ just like his grandfather. 'I'm going to live forever,' was a common philosophy for the old fox, and Nick felt a sour taste rise in his mouth.

 _What's the harm?_ He threw back at the harsh words, burying the thoughts of his only living relative. _Why not put yourself out there for once in your life? How do you think Judy would feel if she saw you now?_ He glanced over to the entrance of the pharmacy, the neon sign blinking lazily in the early morning. Nick got up slowly, swishing his tail back and forth with determination, and walked with purpose for the front door. He only faltered when he reached for the door handle, looking back at the bin of clothing. Shaking his head, he pulled the door open and walked inside.

The pharmacy was plain enough. Simple rows of shelving and aisles spaced just enough for most mammals, baring elephants and most other unusually large ones. The back of the store had a window built into it, an elevated platform leading up to a cashier station so that bunnies and other small prey could still accommodate larger animals, though it looked like it hadn't seen use in awhile. With the monochrome lighting and natural colored aesthetics, Nick could have just as easily assumed it was any other number of storefronts.

There was a rabbit stacking some bags of snacks onto a shelf some ways down the aisles, swishing back and forth to the tune of the music playing through her earbuds. Nick glanced around for some kind of office equipment or other kind of selection, having no luck at checkout for carrot shaped pens of any variety. He was too busy sifting through a jar of assorted writing utensils to notice another rabbit walk up beside him.

"Can I help you find anything," the female rabbit called out roughly, much to Nick's surprise. By her tone, she was not too pleased to see a fox in her store. The question did remain: why hadn't he noticed her? _This is what I was talking about by letting yourself get lazy, Nick_ , he thought. _You go down this road any longer and you really are done for._ Stealing himself, he reflexively abandoned Nick Wilde for the mammal he used for all of his dealings with smaller prey, his earlier thought disappearing under the force of habit and instincts.

Turning to face her, Nick saw that she was wearing the same red uniform as the other bunny, though one of her arms was in a sling with a pretty hefty cast, her slightly yellow fur clashing something awful with the dark blue color of the sling. "Yes," Nick started easily, making great pains to not show off his rows of razor sharp teeth. "I'm looking for a pen I was led to believe you sold here."

"A pen?" The clerk questioned in a monotone voice, cocking an eyebrow for Nick to continue.

"That's right," Nick nodded with an easy closed mouth smile. "Shaped like a carrot. It also has a microphone built into it so it can record audio. You ever carry anything like that?"

She looked around the store for a few seconds before turning her eyes back to Nick. "You're coming in here at two in the morning to look for a carrot pen that can record audio?"

Having abandoned his attempt to "put himself out there", as his mind seemed to put it, and eased his stance, he tried to give her the illusion that he wasn't as tall as he was. Opening his eyes slightly, and shifting his facial muscles to accommodate a more carefree gaze, he leaned back into one of the shelves to make himself appear even shorter while also avoiding the perception that he was a looming threat. "It sounds strange when you put it like that," Nick spoke softly, slightly changing his cadence. "But I can assure you, I have very good reasons."

Subconsciously picking up on Nick's less threatening demeanor, the clerk slightly relaxed her own stance, though not enough to make Nick think she wasn't on guard. "Oh yeah," she said while putting on a polite smile. "And what might that be?"

 _Not what I was hoping for_ , he thought. _I didn't even try to weave a believable front, let alone think of a reason why I'm buying something like that this late. So much for being real this time, Nick._ His smile seemed to diminish at the question, making the rabbit narrow her eyes at the fox in turn. _She won't buy that it's a last-minute present for anyone_ , he mused. _She wouldn't believe I'm friends with anyone that would want something like that. Business partners, maybe?_

"I just got in town," Nick stretched, his smile returning to him. "I'm meeting a business associate in a bit, and he's got a daughter that just loves carrots. Cutest little..." Nick only paused for a fraction of a second when he noticed the disbelieving expression on the clerk's face. _Good job with that cute remark, Nick_ , he thought. _Now stop messing around and start thinking your way out of this._ "Badger you have ever seen," he finished. Smiling wider when the rabbit's face relaxed somewhat, he continued, "She lost her only one not long ago, and I'm looking for a replacement."

"You're meeting a business associate this late at night, huh?" She questioned skeptically.

"We're a bunch of nocturnal mammals, us foxes and badgers, and we do plenty of business late at night," he easily replied.

"Huh," she snapped back. "Look mister… What did you say your name was?"

"Sawyer," Nick chirped, nodding his head in greeting, knowing full well what kind of reaction he'd get if he stuck his clawed paw out for a handshake. "Sawyer Flynn. Most mammals call me 'Yearly'."

"Yearly?" The clerk cocked an eyebrow. "Is that how many times you take a bath?" She shot at him harshly.

"That's the joke, yes," Nick smiled back, showing no reaction to her comment. Self-depreciating humor, or at least humor that ragged on predators as a whole to some extent, was usually a good bet for prey like this clerk. It never improved relations, but it did wonders in making them more compliant with his requests. Maybe it was like flattery to them, a predator subjugating themselves to the same jokes all the prey used behind their backs.

"Okay," she breathed incredulously. "Look Mr. _Flynn_ , we don't carry anything like that, so you best be heading somewhere-"

"Margaret!" Both mammals turned to the rabbit that had previously been stocking shelves, as she took her earbuds out and stomped towards them. Her brown fur was disheveled from what must have been a long shift, and her dull brown eyes pierced right into her coworker. "I think there's a problem with the cash register. You should go _check it out_ ," she seethed.

"Whatever, Short," the clerk with the broken arm snorted back, turning on a dime and wandering back towards the front of the pharmacy, her tail bouncing from side to side in a show of irritation.

When she was gone, the other clerk smiled sadly at Nick, her buck teeth shining through. "Sorry about that," she breathed, looking around the store a couple seconds, obviously uncomfortable.

 _Even when they stick up for you_ , Nick mused. _They're still terrified of you. I wonder how they'd feel if they knew I could smell it._ "It's no problem at all," he said, giving her a closed-mouth smile. _Carrots wasn't scared when she saw me_ , he reflected

"So," the bunny started, looking up at him. "What _can_ we do for you?"

"I'm looking for a carrot pen with a recorder in it," Nick repeated, not leaving his spot from leaning on the shelving. "I had thought you sold those."

The bunny nodded at him, thinking it over while she spoke. "We used to," she recalled. "We haven't carried them in probably about a year."

"Oh, yeah?" Nick said, believing this was his chance to get some information on the plastic recording device. "You've worked here awhile, huh?"

"Sure have," the exceptionally nicer clerk chirped. "But we only had those pens for a week or something crazy like that," she pondered, looking up at the ceiling and tapping her chin while her ears parted slightly. "I only remember them because my sister has one."

"Your sister, huh?" Nick regarded, looking at her nameplate. Sure enough, 'E. Hopps' was written across the bronze plate, engraved into the metal and finished with a dark paint. "You're Carrots' sister," he realized out loud. _I don't know why I didn't expect to see another one_ , he thought. _Their estate is just a short walk away. Of course one of them would work here._

The young rabbits eyebrows shot up as high as they could. "Carrots?" She breathed incredulously.

Nick smiled smugly at her, attempting to correct his momentary slip with a sarcastic quip. "You know, about your height, has a knack for doing the right thing, probably the best cop Zootopia has ever seen," he trailed off. "Stands out pretty well in a crowd, actually."

The clerk looked at him with surprise, her brown eyes widening slightly and her mouth parting enough that her buck teeth were visible. "You know my sister?" She asked, interested.

 _Okay, Sawyer Flynn_ , he thought to himself. J _ust how does a businessmammal that had a meeting with a badger tonight know Carrots?_ He brushed off his inner warnings, abandoning the front he had hastily crafted out of habit for Nick Wilde once again. For some reason, he was feeling like lying to one of Judy's siblings was now somehow crossing a line. _Bad sign, Nick_ , he thought. "That's right," he replied. "We met on business."

She cocked her eyebrow at him. "Same kind you have with the badger?"

 _She heard all of that, huh_ , he thought, his smile pulling back slightly. It was in his best interest to continue the lie. At best avoiding a confrontation, and at worst having Judy find out he used a fake identity to meet one of her sisters. Nick was having a hard time deciding which one is worse. The thought of Judy knowing he reverted right back to the conmammal as soon as he was away from her company bothered him somewhat, though. It was that idea that solidified his decision. "No," he started slowly. "We met on police business, you could say."

"Oh," she said thoughtfully, searching Nick's expression. "Judy mentioned a fox she met on the job to me a month back but I don't think his name was Flynn."

"It's wasn't," he said, preparing himself for a bad reaction. "It was Nick Wilde. Which is me."

She stared at him for a second, not realizing what he was saying. Finally, her eyebrows shot up again, and she made a squeak in realization. She smiled at him for a fraction of a second before it fell from her face and her brow furrowed. "You said your name was Flynn?"

Nick blinked. "That was something of a..." Nick trailed off in a regretful manor, nodding his head from side to side and avoiding her gaze. "Lie," he deadpanned as he looked back into the rabbit's brown eyes.

The clerk looked at him with apparent confusion, her stance shifting slightly back defensively, returning to how she was before he had mentioned her sister. "Why did you lie about that," she carefully questioned.

He searched her eyes, trying to think of a good excuse. _Just tell her something to get this over with_ , he thought quickly. _Tell her you're practicing your improve, and your prompt was 'getting a carrot pen recorder at two in the morning'. Stretch the truth and tell her you're a police informant and you're here in town on police business, but you needed some kind of disguised recorder for your assignment. Tell her anything, Nick. Just remember who you are. A conniving fox that can talk his way out of anything._ Nick thought of several different lies, all of them running through his head at quickly as he searched for the right one. _Or_ , his mind quietly replied. _You could tell her the truth._

Nick blinked again, this time not entirely sure what it was he was even doing anymore. It was like he was swinging back and forth on a pendulum, unable to settle to either the confox he had grown to be or the plain old fox that Judy had coaxed out of him. "Force of habit," he finally replied, turning slightly as to not have to look Judy's sister in the eyes. "I wasn't exactly on the right side of that police business."

She regarded him for a second before replying. "What are you doing out here? I heard Judy left for the city earlier today."

"I drove her back," Nick said calmly. "She messed up her leg pretty good, so she couldn't drive stick. I'm taking the train back to Zootopia."

"You drove her back?" She asked. "Are you saying you walked here from the burrow? You were at the burrow?"

"That's right."

The rabbit gaped at him, having a hard time believing the things that he was saying. "Okay," she started slowly. "Why are you in here asking about a carrot pen, then?"

"Well," Nick replied uncomfortably. "She lost her's today."

"So, what," she uttered under her breath. "You're looking to buy her a new one?"

"That's the plan, yes," Nick responded with a flat tone, nodding his head.

"I don't understand," she said, waving her paws in the air at Nick as she shook her head with closed eyes. "I thought you two had a big fight or something?"

"You could say that," Nick trailed off again. "But she came looking for my help this morning." He looked the rabbit over, now noticing that she did actually look a lot like Judy, though with brown fur and eyes. He was now wondering if she could smell Judy on him, and instinctively took a step to the side away from her to peruse some of the other merchandise. "We made up," he continued soberly.

"Enough for you to drive her all the way out here and then wait for a train, at a station you walked to, for several hours?" Judy's sister asked quizzically.

"Yeah," Nick nodded, looking back over to her to search her expression, hoping for anything but what he was really expecting to find. To his surprise, she seemed to only be looking at him only somewhat suspiciously, a far cry from the plain incredulity and lip-curling contempt he was used to dealing with. "Yup," he repeated, "That is what happened."

She nodded slowly, not really sure what about the things she hearing was something she should be concerned about, or if she should be concerned at all. If nothing else, she just looked dumbstruck, completely caught off guard by the exchange in every way possible. _Still_ , Nick thought. _That's better than what you could realistically hope for._

"Why the pen, though?" She inquired, uncertain.

"Carrots seemed pretty attached to the thing," Nick replied, noting her wince every time he mentioned Judy's nickname "I was somewhat at fault, or at least I was present, when she lost it," he continued, glancing around the storefront, keeping tabs on the other rabbit that was currently moving about behind the cash registers begrudgingly.

"Well, I'm sorry but we don't have them anymore," Judy's sister spoke plainly.

"You don't know anything else about them? Like who made them?"

She hummed in thought, tapping her chin rhythmically. "It was a company called VegPen," she recalled. "They just make pens and that sort of thing shaped like vegetables. We sold some pumpkin pencil sharpeners, leak pens that had a flashlight, and some other weird stuff. They put a bunch of really expensive and useless bells and whistles on most of it, so they went out of business a while back." She made her way over to the back of the pharmacy, closer to the elevated platform while motioning Nick to follow. "Heck, the pen Judy bought was almost thirty dollars. I'd never pay that much money for something like that."

"Ah, well that's fine," he assured. "That's all I think I need."

"Hold on," she called to him as she climbed the stairs, reaching the top and proceeding to rummage around some shelving underneath the cash register. "I think I might have a business card in here," she muttered, sticking her entire head into the cubby, her ears poking out behind her.

Nick watched her search from the bottom of the steps, seeing no reason to follow her up there. "Say," he called up to her. "Do you mind not telling her that I was here? Or that I met you?" Nick waited for a response, but was only met with her turning out of the cubby and staring at him blankly, urging him to continue silently. "It's only now coming to me how embarrassing it would be if she knew I was looking to buy her a present," he clarified.

"I don't know…" She trailed off, cringing slightly at the thought before turning and resuming her search.

"You don't want to ruin the surprise, do you?" Nick puffed quizzically.

She stopped her search for a moment, thinking it over. "I guess not," she whispered indecisively. She straightens up from her position, and starts to make her way back down the stairs, holding out a cream and green colored business card. "This is it. The lines might not work, since they've gone out of business."

"Thank you," Nick gave her a genuine smile, still being careful to not show his teeth, and read the card. The caption at the top read out the name of the company in carrots positions to simulate words, 'VegPen' sprawled out in cartoonish renditions over a list of contact information. Unfortunately for Nick, there was no address. Just phone numbers. It would be a miracle if any of them even worked, but if they didn't, he still had some ideas.

He looked up from the card to the rabbit that was looking at him expectantly. "I never got your name," Nick smiled.

"Oh!" She said, fidgeting for a second before hesitantly sticking out her paw for a handshake. "It's Ellie. Ellie Hopps."

Nick glanced at her shaking paw for a moment before sticking just one finger out of his closed paw and retracting his claw as much as possible. He stuck that out for her to shake instead, knowing prey really do not like it when predators grab them. For any reason. Ellie took his finger in her small paw and shook it twice before returning it to her side. "Why'd she call you 'Short'?" Nick asked with interest. "You look the same height to me."

"It's-" She started, growing more uncomfortable than before. "I've got short ears," she said stiffly, pointing up at her ears.

To Nick, they looked exactly the same as Judy's, baring the absence of black tips. "They look fine to me," he said, regarding the long appendages for any faults and finding none. Nick cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Thanks," she breathed, slicking her ears behind her head where they stayed, self-conscious about a fault that Nick still failed to recognize. "But it's pretty subtle. You'd only see it if you were a rabbit."

Nick scoffed at that. "If it's so subtle, I fail to see the problem. They're plenty tall to me." Nick glanced over his shoulder to the entrance. Turning back to Ellie, he hooked his clawed paw towards the entrance. "Anyway," he began. "I've got to get out of here. Lots of waiting to do, you know."

"It's going to take you another hour at least to get to the station," she informed him, looking to the entrance he was pointing to for no discernible reason. "Are you sure that's fine?" She asked, glancing back at him.

"Oh, I'll be fine," Nick waved, giving her a lazy smile before bringing his paws together behind his back. "A little walk never hurt me."

"Alright," she nodded.

"Have a nice night, Ms. Hopps," Nick chirped before turning and strolling towards the door.

"You too," Ellie called out to him.

On his way out, he passed the cash registers where the other rabbit was staring spitefully at him. "You have a nice night too, miss," Nick smiled at her. When the other bunny clicked her tongue off of her buck teeth with such force it sent a popping sound across the entire store, Nick couldn't help but bark out a laugh as he strolled out the sliding door of the pharmacy.

Humming a tune as he strolled across the parking lot to meet the road, he made a stop next to the clothing donation bin to make sure that he had closed it properly. _See_ , he thought to himself as he rejoined the street. _That wasn't so hard. All you had to do was be real for once in your life._

 _We seem to be remembering that differently,_ he retorted. _I seem to recall a one Sawyer Flynn that walked into that store looking for a present for his badger business associate's daughter._ Nick blew air out his snout dramatically, hooking his paws behind his back as he returned his eyes to the fields of produce. _You only dropped the act when you realized she was related to that carrot-eating meter maid._

He snorted again at his own thought, smiling at the possibility that he must look completely insane, making faces to himself as he strolled down an empty street at two in the morning. Nick's smile didn't last for long, giving way to a beaten down exhaustion that he hadn't been able to shake for months now. _Baby steps, Wilde_ , he thought to himself. _Today it's the rabbit's siblings. Tomorrow, it could be the rabbit herself._

His mind ran away with his mood, robbing him of any peace produced from the quiet night. _Baby steps towards what? You can't step your way out of being red like the devil and sharper than a tack, both literally and metaphorically,_ he mused. _What are you gonna do? Plant your roots next to a carrot-farming rabbit just because she was the only mammal in twenty years to treat you like a person?_

Nick turned his snout towards the sky, smiling broadly to himself so that all of his razor sharp teeth were on display to the cold night air. _Why not_ , he questioned, chuckling slightly. _After all, I've got nothing to lose._ He took long drags of the air, testing it for anything he should worry about. Much to his own dismay, the only thing he could smell was rain. Whether it was right on him or miles off, he couldn't tell, but it was _close_.

 _She doesn't even know you, Nick_ , he reminded himself. _She doesn't know half the things you've done._ Taking the moment, he reflected on his long stint as a criminal. Most of it was above bar, in fact, a good amount of it was even technically _legal_. It was almost a disservice to call Nick Wilde a criminal. Sure, he had done a few jobs here and there that were considered 'hardcore', but most everything he did was just lowest common denominator, minimal effort, highest profit hustles. That's it. Hustles. Not even cons in earnest, though he had done more than his fair share of those.

Kicking another pebble down the street, he began to feel the first sprinkles of rain falling from the sky. The droplets patterned onto the pavement and grass on either side. _I guess this_ is _what I get_ , he mused. _For going out of my way to do things for another mammal._ Nick began to pick up nice pace, pulling his arm out from behind his back to aid in his jog. _It was worth it, though_ , he was beginning to think. _She might get tired of this old fox yet, but man was it the best thing I've had in ages._

Jogging with more determination now, he spotted a cobblestone bridge just down the road slightly, shooting off of the main road and leading up towards the rolling hills in the distance. He trotted across the ditch, sliding down a face of powdery soil to reach the dry riverbed that snaked underneath the bridge. It was just a short couple strides until he was safe under the protective stone and cement.

Just then a crack opened up in the sky, lighting up the entire countryside like it was daytime for a split second. Rain began pelting down with a fervor, hundreds of gallons slamming into the soil all around him with such force that the cacophony of sound hazed together in indistinct noise, the constant bombardment only being broken up by a stream of water that flowed forcefully over the lip of the cobble bride, splashing into the soil only feet in front of Nick.

He chuckled at the apparent luck, being practically bone dry save for a few stray droplets that clung to his fur and whiskers. He turned from the onslaught, strolling lazily to the center of the bridge before settling down against the cold stone and sitting down. Nick brushed off his tail the best he could before draping it across his crossed lap, holding the warmth to himself.

It was funny to Nick. The best the bear of his grandfather's metaphor had is a spiteful rabbit and some water. The world had nothing to get him with out here. Even in the torrential storm, it was the most peaceful he had felt in years. Leaning his head back against the stone, Nick closed his eyes, sniffing at the air to catch the scents stirred up from the rain.

Maybe in the end, the strength that Nick attributed to the beast of this world was really pathetic, and that it only held as much power as you gave it. It was a self-imposed obstacle. Something you could win against. Maybe it was easier when it was nothing but a crippled bunny clerk or a few measly droplets of water falling from the sky, but you could beat the tougher things life could throw your way. Nick knew that from experience. _Maybe I already lost_ , he mused. _If I allowed it to tell me that he was nothing but a fox, and I believed it._ He opened his eyes and stared up at the cobble shelter he was under, his face falling back into its tired lines and downward curve to his muzzle.

 _It's going to be a cold one_ , he thought. _Wind is coming from the wrong way for this shelter to do anything against it._ Nick peered out into the torrential downpour, mulling over just how long this storm could go on for. If he had to sleep here, he had no doubt that the riverbed was going to flood. The packed soil could only soak up so much. _Some luck_ , he snorted, thinking back on his jovial reaction to beating the storm to the bridge. _I guess that was the plan all along, huh? This is punishment, after all._

 _Nothing but water…_ Nick pondered. _That's all it is._ Nick dug out some of the dirt that was packed into the ground and let it slip through his fingers. Perhaps that's all the world's hate was. The bear of his grandfather's little saying wasn't anything but rain. The world can beat down on you, and it can wash away everything that isn't nailed down, but it'll be gone come the storm's passing. The bear couldn't kill him unless he let it. Unless he just sat motionless in the rain and let hypothermia set in. Sure, some things are more dangerous than rain, but the idea was the same to Nick.

He was starting believe he was wrong in thinking all he had to do was survive. His life isn't what the world wants to take from him. All it wants is to be right. About him. About foxes. About who can be what. It's hollow, nothing but words and circumstance. It's obsessed with the material because it _is_ the material, hating Nick for what he is because that's just what the world is. It's the society around them. The people. The places.

Judy showed it to him. That the world was wrong. That he can't just run away from the city. From what people think of foxes. He can't accept their words as the truth, because they aren't. That it doesn't matter if we beat it, or rage against it with everything we've got. She knew that we can't let it stop us, or slow us down. She knew that the only thing that mattered is what we _choose_ , not what we can't.

 _You're not thinking straight, Nick_ , his mind warned. _You're thinking yourself in a corner. Stop it. Remember who you are. Remember_ what _you are. You're Nick Wilde, a red fox._ Nick shook his head, attempting to dislodge the little voice that had seemingly kept him alive all these years. _No_ , he snarled back. You're _not thinking straight. I haven't thought straighter in my entire goddamn life._

 _'But you can't beat the buzzard'_ , his grandfather's words shook him. The words made it all feel so small. The countless nights huddled into himself for warmth. The hate thrown in his direction from every mammal that saw him. The lifetime of hardship and strife. It all seemingly paled at the thought that it was a waste of time. That at the end of it all, no matter what he did, he would lose to the buzzard.

 _No_ , Nick thought. Judy showed him that we can beat the buzzard, too. She did it every day. Every day she worked so hard to be a cop. Because it mattered. Not because people told her she couldn't, or because she decided it was how she'd win against the bear. It was because it was her dream. By making a difference, by doing what is right, Judy had done what Nick wanted to do for his entire life. She would live forever, because she knew that you can't beat the buzzard by living longer. You beat the buzzard by living _well_.

Was running enough, now that he knew what hung above? Now that Judy had shown him just how pathetic the bear really was? Was it enough for Nick to return to his life of the common hustler, believing he had beaten the world by simply surviving? Would he allow himself to give the bear the power to kill him? To chase him down one too many dark alleyways. To corner him against his own lies. His deceit. His misfortune. His hate. Could he allow it? No. No, he could not.

Could he face the bear's ceaseless downpour head-on for the rest of his life? Could he show it that he wasn't afraid anymore? That the hate that possessed it could not affect him. That it could not _change_ him. That no matter what it said, what it did, Nick would not shrink away. He would not tuck his tail between his legs. He would not run or hide. From now on, he would stand tall, right next to Judy. His foundation would be so strong, not even the roughest hurricane could knock it down.

Could he laugh in the bear's face? With Judy by his side, he was already laughing.


	6. It's not right to change the past

_3:04 am, September 14th_

* * *

Nick lapped at the stream of water flowing over the lip of the bridge. It splattered over his snout, dripping through his fur and towards his shirt, soaking the collar. His cloths were already damp, the droplets of water being shot towards him from the colossal downpour only several feet away. He wiped his muzzle with the back of his paw, turning away from the open archway to settle back into his position against the cobble structure.

It was better than city water, though it was not hard to rise above that bar. When Nick was younger, he used drinking fountains and bottles to keep himself hydrated throughout the day, having no direct source of water for himself. Growing up into his teenage years, businesses started to turn him away, shooing him out of stores and offices for very little reason at all most of the time. He turned to his trusty sillcock key after that.

He settled back into his spot and looked over the dry riverbed. _It won't stay dry for long. Hell, it's already damp_ , Nick thought. _I may only have half an hour before I'm washed away._ He rested his head back into the cold rock, closing his eyes to the world. There was always water or food for those that knew how to look, this Nick knew from experience. In the city, there are always outdoor spigots stuck to the outside of the towering buildings, small water fixtures pressed into the faces of walls. He had almost dehydrated several times when he first started out, not knowing that there was clean water all around him. All you needed was what looked like a miniature tire iron to get it.

Nick had found himself reflecting on his life of a wandering fox for some time now, putting all of the pieces of memories together to get a look at what he had even been doing for so long. Maybe it was the thought that this was not even close to the first time he had been in this situation. Back in Zootopia, he could quite clearly remember a time where he had spent almost three days wandering the tunnels of a flooding storm drain network, the hurricane that had made him flee to the safety of the underground chasing him all the way through the dark maze.

He had only found his way out when he had met a group of otters searching through the network for crabs. He had spent one last night down below the city in a subterranean encampment of predators, as they had procured an abandoned subway line and built their shantytown out of scrap wood and duct tape. Nick smiled at the memory of singing homeless shanties with the otters, having shared in their bounty of storm drain crabs and bathtub gin around a roaring underground fire. He had only been seventeen when that happened. It seemed so long ago. Maybe because it was.

His life of being a homeless fox wasn't all bad. It was a struggle at times, but he had learned ways to make it all easier. Nick had always kept moving, which was one of the ways he had survived so long. These day, it felt like he was a dying breed. An old dog still wandering a city that wasn't anything like it used to be, growing too big for its own good. One by one, all of the shantytowns and homeless paradises whittled away. The homes they built out of corrugated scrap and rubber bands demolished to make room for nicer neighborhoods and coffee shops. The otters had probably moved onto subsidized housing, working backbreaking jobs so that they could go home to a ghetto, the quiet community of that abandoned subway line long since broken up.

All of the gaps in the city that a mammal like him could live in were being filled out, and all of the mammals prowling the humming night were abandoning their last hold on the wild. Nick had held on for so long. Keeping to the words that pushed him to be the way he was. He had shunned and laughed at the "society" around him, scoffing at the idea that they were anything more than _animals_. Nick had believed he was just being honest to what he was, and had thought the mammals that had grew to dislike being wild, being _free_ , were weak. Like they had somehow given up.

Sighing heavily, Nick lounged further into the stone, propping himself up on his elbows to help support the weight being taken by his neck and weaved his clawed fingers together. His tail shuffled to his side, careful as to not get pinched or flattened under him, brushing the damp earth around underneath it. _I'm going to need to take a shower when I get back_ , he thought. _Can't stroll around the city on my first day of being retired covered in mud, now can I?_ It was hard to say which gym memberships were still valid. Under fake names and aliases through two dozen establishments in the city, it was hard to remember which gyms had fake memberships, and which ones he had payed off the manager to give him a lifetime one under an illegitimate moniker.

Nick's ears flicked every time a droplet of water was catapulted towards him. Cracking open one eye, he peered lazily out towards the encroaching water. _Maybe a little less than half an hour_ , he mused boredly. He was hoping that the storm would have died off by now. Unfortunately for him, it had only gotten worse. The torrential onslaught of rain thundering against the packed earth of the countryside, the force reminding him of the time he had witnessed the sixty-eighth annual stampede that the city had organized to go through Savannah Central. From far away, it sounded like the low rumble of thunder, but up close it felt like the earth was cracking beneath your feet.

 _Carrots might be working security for the next one_ , Nick mused. _I'd loved to see her face when she saw something like that. Coming from this little nothing of a town, it'll be quite the sight._ He hummed happily at the thought, smiling lazily as he rested. His mind wandered to the reason he was under this bridge in the first place. _No_ , he reminded himself. _She offered to let you stay._ You _are the reason you're under this bridge_. Nick relaxed himself further into the stone, pulling his tail over his lap. Perhaps he could take a quick nap before the water reached him and he had to begin the long treck to the station.

He was going to have to apologies to Judy about the lie. Even if she somehow didn't find out he had done it, Nick believed that he should probably tell her anyway. It might help with his newfound sense of self. _You're not dead, Nick_ , his mind shot back. _I'm still here, and this 'retirement'? I give it a couple weeks tops_. He snorted loudly, his brow furrowing to meet the voice in his head. Nick was going to _try_ this time. No matter what the voice that grew inside his soul for twenty years had to say about it. He owed Judy that much. For showing him that he wasn't too far gone. That freedom isn't everything. His mind was being saturated by her so much, he could almost hear her calling his name…

Wait…

Nick's ears perked up at the sound of an old engine sputtering towards him. He shot up into a sitting position, looking out into the storm of rain down the road that led to Judy's home. Nick could see two headlights shining through the falling water, coming towards him. Just then he heard it again. A faint yell coming from the truck, calling his name. Nick's jaw went slack as he tried desperately to process the information he was being given. His eyes narrowed at the light. _No_ , he thought slowly. _You have got to be kidding me_.

The truck was almost to him, coming close to passing the bridge he was huddled under. Just as it came by, he could read the caption on the side. 'Hopps' Family Farm' painted in easy lettering. "Nick!" A voice called out from the open window, two massive ears with black tips leaning out of the truck in a searching motion. She was driving. _Unbelievable_ , he thought to himself, completely dumbstruck as the truck passed him.

His mind went blank for a solid second before he scrambled up onto his legs and leaped out of the protection of the bridge. Now being pelted with rain, he scrambled up the side of the ditch, clawing his way up the muddy soil to reach the road. Collecting himself on the edge of the pavement, he jogged over to the center of the street, calling out and waving at for the truck that was still heading away from him.

Nick saw the break light shine out, as the truck came to a complete stop. He rushed towards the vehicle, quickly making his way over to the driver's side door and tearing it open. "Move over," he announced to the surprised Judy, throwing himself onto the bench seat with the exhaustion of being awake for nearly twenty-four hours. He slammed the truck door shut and rolled up the window as fast as he could, trying to stop the rain that continued to hit him.

Once he was done, they sat in silence, Nick still looking at the door. The copious amount of rain slammed down onto the metal roof of the cab, filling the dark space with an abundance of noise. Nick slowly looked up at Judy with his ears splayed back onto his head, giving her an apprehensive look. Her nose was twitching unbelievably fast as she watched him, her expression completely neutral except for the movement.

In a flash, her face scrunched up in anger, her nose and mouth pulling back into a sneer to show her enormous buck teeth. She lept at him as fast as she could in her state of being thoroughly soaked and her leg still being injured. "You stupid, stupid fox!" She hissed, pelting him with her balled up paws. She kept up the assault, smacking him again and again. "What were you thinking?"

"Ow," Nick winced at her attack, pulling as far into the door as he could. "Ow! Okay! I'm sorry!"

"After what I told you about caring," she choked out, her anger being replaced by a weak tone. She continued her waning bombardment for as long as she could before Nick grabbed both of her wrists to stop her. "You lied to me," she whimpered, her ears dropping behind her head and amethyst eyes filling with tears.

Judy nearly let out a choking sound when Nick pulled her into a hug, wrapping his soaked fur and arms around her. "I know," he breathed. "And I'm sorry." They stayed like that for several moments, despite Judy having stopped shaking after only a minute.

"Why?" She breathed into his chest, her hot breath warming him to his core.

Nick sighed heavily, trying to recall something he had said about sighing just yesterday. He was beginning to think that it was impossible it had only been a dozen hours ago that Judy had come back to apologize to him. "I," Nick started weakly. "I don't really know." She disentangled herself from his arms to look him in the eyes. Her deep amethyst eyes gazing sadly into his piercing green, searching for some more fulfilling answer than he just 'didn't know'. "I guess," Nick continued as he gazed back. "I was thinking I was back in the city, on my own…" he trailed off.

She looked deeply in his eyes before burying her face back into Nick's chest. "You're not anymore."

"No," Nick breathed into the top of her head. "No, I am not."

The cab settled into a comfortable noise, the constant assault of the opened sky continuing its unrelenting downpour. Judy remained motionless in Nick's arms for some time before finally speaking. "I'm glad I found you."

"Oh, you can bet that I'm glad you found me, too," he quipped back, smiling down at her. "That bridge was about to flood."

"No, I'm serious," Judy shot back, burying her face deeper into Nick's chest to the point that her words were almost completely muffled. "If you had spent the night in this storm, I would have been devastated."

"Aw," Nick mocked, drawing out the sarcastic sound far longer than he had to. "I've spent the night in worse, Carrots," he reminded her. "This is nothing but an inconvenience." Nick pushed her away from him softly, allowing her to release her hold on his torso enough that her arms would just slide away from him as she was pushed back. He looked her over, noting that she was completely drenched in water, but she was also wearing new cloths. She had abandoned her sweaty overalls and pink flannel shirt for a pair of loose gray sweatpants and a black tank top. "Now sit back and let me look at you," he muttered under his breath, moving to take hold of her injured leg carefully.

Judy winced when Nick wrapped his paw around her thigh. He guided her slowly to where she was sideways on the seat so he could drape her injured leg over his lap. "I'm fine, Nick," She griped out, trying her hardest to give him a smile.

Nick rolled up her loose sweatpants enough so they were over her knee, and saw that the bandage wrapped around her calf was spotted red. Moving to carefully remove the bandage so that he could look at the gash, he pulled the gauze back delicately. Much to his relief, the stitches weren't torn, only a small amount of blood had congealed around the small patch of shaved fur. "What was _'I'_ thinking?" Nick started, redressing the bandage prudently. "What the hell were you thinking, Fluff?"

"It's fine," she assured him. "I can barely feel it."

"Oh, you can barely feel it, huh?" Nick deadpanned, still messing with the bandage to make sure it was secure. "That's nice. It would almost be reassuring if I didn't know about this little thing called adrenaline."

"Nick," she pleaded. "I'm serious."

"Yeah, so am I," He shot back, giving her a narrow look. "What were you going to do if you tore the sutures?"

"I would have gotten new ones in the morning, obviously," she Judy snorted dismissively. "I couldn't leave you out here."

"Rabbit, you're never going to get better if you keep acting like that," he said, rolling down her sweatpants as to not brush against the wound. "You could have just left me out here," he breathed, smoothing down the fabric of her clothing. He glanced up to see Judy watching him intently. "Like I've said," Nick started blankly, nodding his snout out towards the rainstorm beyond the windscreen. "This is nothing."

"Nothing. Yeah, okay. Sure," she replied stiffly, her nose scrunching up at his words. Her sneer was back, and if her ears had not remained behind her back since they fell, Nick would have figured they would have dropped again. "I could _not_ have just left you out here. I told you. You're my friend, Nick." Judy placed her paws behind her on the bench seat, leaning back into them. "You drove me all the way out here at the drop of a hat when you knew you didn't have to."

"Yeah, to keep you from sleeping in a truck with your injury!" Nick scoffed. "Now you've gone and driven around anyway looking for me when you had no idea where I would even be."

"Then you should have just spent the night!" Judy hit him in the arm in frustration. "Then I wouldn't be out looking for you in the middle of a terrible storm!"

"So it's _my_ fault?" Nick sneered, looking away from her and out the driver's side window.

"If I had torn any sutures, yes. Yes, it would," she quipped back. "But guess what, Nick? I'm fine. _Nobody_ is at fault."

"And what if you didn't find me just now? Wouldn't you have kept looking? To the point that they _would_ have been torn?"

"Yes, I would have. I would have been looking _all night_ , Nick. Until I bled out all over the truck."

Nick snorted, shaking his head and looking back at her. "Don't be dramatic."

Judy gaped at him. Her eyes narrowed slowly as she clicked her tongue off of her buck teeth. "Me? You want _me_ not to be dramatic? After all of this?"

"Do you know how many nights I have spent out in the rain?" Nick barked, stopping Judy in her tracks. He searched her eyes, his brow furrowing at her surprised expression. Her nose twitched rapidly in the pause. "How about under a bridge?" He continued incredulously. "Do you have any idea how many nights I have spent trudging through the city, running from Big's bears? What about all the nights I simply couldn't _afford_ to sleep?" He blew air out of his nose, turning away from her. "You're injured," he began softly. "You need to be in bed, resting. I can take care of myself."

"You don't have to, Nick," she replied quietly, scooting closer so that she could place her paw on his arm. "Not anymore. You can rely on other mammals a little bit."

Nick turned back to her. She was looking at him with her deep amethyst eyes filled with sorrow, her mouth parted slight and nose twitching. He sighed, looking out the windscreen. "I know."

"Come back with me," she whispered faintly, scooting a little bit closer. Her injured leg almost being completely over his lap, she had to bend the other at the knee and press it against Nick's side. Practically straddling him, she began again. "Rely on me a little bit, and spend the night somewhere better than under a bridge."

"Ha," he replied dejectedly, though with a bit of humor. "I don't really have much of a choice, Fluff. I'm not going to let you drive the truck back on your own. You shouldn't have driven it out here in the first place."

"Yes, Nick," she spoke up to him. "You do have a choice. I'm asking you."

He looked down into her pleading eyes for a moment, his tough expression softening as it fell. "Okay," he replied in a whisper. "Okay, I'll spend the night with an army of rabbits and go against every bit of common sense I still possess."

"Nick," she pleaded, moving her paw from his arm and up to the side of his muzzle. "I want to hear it. Please take this seriously."

Nick shied slightly at the tough, jolting away for a fraction of a second. Judy followed, pulling her paw back a fraction in apprehension, not sure if she should keep the touch. As Nick eased into it, she eased back, so that they relaxed into the seemingly intimate contact. "Yes," he tenderly confirmed. "Let's head back."

Judy smiled up at him, her genuine joy at his words melting Nick's indecision. "Thank you," she breathed.

"I should be the one thanking you, Fluff," he replied, taking her hand away from him muzzle by the wrist. He picked her up slightly from her shoulders and settled her back into the door on the other side of the cab so her injured leg stretched out straight across the bench. "You're the one I'm relying on for a comfortable spot to sleep."

"It's because I know it's not easy for you," she said as she grabbed onto his paws as he pulled them back. Giving them a reassuring squeeze, she finally let them go, so that Nick could take the wheel.

"Come on, Carrots," he smiled at her, putting the truck into drive and turning it around. "Let me get you back home so we can change this bandage and you can rest."

"Yeah," Judy yawned. "I am completely exhausted. I was up in about two hours yesterday. Early start at our produce stand and everything."

Nick lamented about the fact that he was once again in the Hopps' family farm truck, driving Judy back home. He was beginning to suspect that he may not even have a choice in retiring. "Same here," he yawned heavily, his rows of sharp teeth on display. "I was up at like six."

"Six? You?"

Nick glanced over to her, giving her a lazy smile. "Doesn't seem like me?"

"Well," she started slowly. "With how I found you in the afternoon, just lazing around, I just didn't expect it."

"Expect it, Fluff," he smiled, returning his eyes to the road. The windshield wipers were doing their best, but visibility was next to nothing as it is. "Time's money, and the most lucrative time for a hustle is in the morning, when everyone is half-asleep and in a hurry." Nick chuckled to himself, thinking back on all of those early mornings where he had conned practically, and in some cases literally, the clothes off of some mammal's backs. It was also the best time of day to figure out who hated foxes, as the early morning had a way of bringing out the sneering faces more times than not. They were often quite a bit more gullible, too. "This one time, me and Fin sold almost twenty strollers before the sun even came up. Good thing, too, the ZPD rolled up on our spot just after first light."

"Strollers? Where on earth did you get your hands on twenty strollers to sell?" She gawked at him, crossing her arms expecting to not like the answer to that question.

"Factory fire," Nick said simply. "Some floor manager spent the night smoking up a storm up in the offices. He fell asleep, and the whole place went up. Me and Fin were around the block when we smelled the smoke, and we checked it out. That woolly bastard was black as night," he snorted out, through a fit of reminiscent chuckles. "Singed to no end, that sheep was screaming into his phone like it would put out the fire."

"So, what?" She questioned. "There was a sale for all of the damaged strollers and you bought them cheap?"

"Oh, no," Nick smiled. He glanced over to her with a lazy smile, a mischievous expression spreading over his muzzle. "Fin pulled the van up to the back and we made out with as much strollers as we could take from their shipping bay. It was a discount, all right," he chuckled. "The five finger discount, to be exact! We even kept one. It was the stroller that you saw Finnick in when you came to blackmail me."

"You _stole_ them?" She exasperatedly yelled, making Nick winced back and turn his ears away.

"They were paid for," Nick defended, keeping his eyes forward. _Maybe_ don't _talk about all of your illegal dealings, doesn't that sound like a good idea_ , he thought. _No, she deserves to know what she is getting into if we're really going to keep this thing, whatever it is, going_. "By the insurance company," he finished.

She scoffed at him loudly. "Last time I checked, Nick," she started. "Fire insurance doesn't cover a couple thieves making away with a bunch of merchandise."

"It did after we were done with the place," Nick whispered, preemptively wincing at the next outburst that never came. Carefully, he glanced over at Judy, expecting an angry expression. Instead, all he saw was a slack jawed stare with her nose twitching. _She might be rethinking this whole 'friends with a felon' thing_ , he thought, turning his eyes back out the window as they made their way back to Judy's home. "We might of…" He trailed off, rolling his head around. "Helped the blaze along a little bit."

Judy just gaped at him, speechless. After a few short moments, she finally asked tentatively, "You're an _arsonist_ now?"

"Hey," Nick guarded. "We didn't start that fire, and we sure as hell couldn't leave evidence behind that stuff had been taken. How fast do you think we would have been rolled up on, if it was known that strollers had been stolen and a pair of foxes just so happened to be selling some a couple days later?"

"Oh, and a pair of foxes selling strollers a couple days after a stroller factory had been burned down is any better," Judy questioned angrily.

"One, Fluff," Nick said, shooting up a finger in her direction. "It didn't burn down. All that was damaged was the offices in the front and a little bit of shipping and receiving. Two," he shot another clawed finger up, wiggling them about. "Finnick and I spent the whole next couple nights turning the packaging inside out on every single box, and we even stenciled some fake logos and symbols on every one. Three," he said, pointing all three fingers of his paw at her. "I put an add in the classifieds of the Zootopia Times, and used a clipping of that to convince people that it was all legit."

When Judy just gawked at him with an open mouth, her nose twitching rapidly, he continued as her returned his attention to the stormy road he was driving. "What _exactly_ did you expect that I was doing all these years? Selling pawpsicles?"

"I just," she trailed off weakly. "I thought you were just skirting around the law, not _actively breaking it_."

"Then what do you call the fraudulent tax returns?" He flung back.

"I don't know," she scoffed. "What do _you_ call it? Why'd you even do it if you are running around the city making money paw over fist selling stolen goods?"

Nick shrugged, not turning to face her. "It was a joke."

"A joke?" She exasperated, her brow furrowing dangerously.

"Carrots," he eased, looking in her direction carefully before returning his vision back out the window. "The name 'Nicholas Wilde' is not on a single piece of paper besides my tax returns and driver's license. I've never been on a lease, title, contract, or even employed. I'm completely off the grid, one-hundred percent untouchable. Without that little pen of yours," Nick said, looking over at her disbelieving expression. "There is not a shred of proof on this planet that I have ever made a _cent_ in my entire life. I've been going by fifty different aliases at any given time since I was _sixteen_. Yeah, it was a joke. A little humorous activity to show myself that I was _winning_. That they couldn't even touch me."

"This isn't funny, Nick!" Judy seethed back. "More than twenty strollers is probably theft over a thousand. That's a felony! Just because you covered your tracks doesn't mean it can't come back to haunt you."

"I've been doing this for a long time, Carrots," he replied boredly, his eyes glassing over as he reminisced. "There will never be an investigation into _anything_ that I've done unless I own up to it myself," he harshly breathed. "The tax fraud is _impossible_ to investigate. There isn't a scent trail, let alone a paper one. The stroller thing? The company will never push for an investigation, because they took an insurance payout. I sold the strollers to down-on-their-luck predators from the projects that couldn't _afford_ to buy them from the store; _they're_ not pushing for anything to happen," he barked, waving his free paw out in front of him, gesturing to nothing in particular. "Finnick certainly isn't ratting me out on any of it. And even if all of that wasn't true, pretty much anything they could prosecute me on is past the statute of limitations."

"Cheese and crackers, Nick," Judy whispered back, shaking her head as she looked out her own window.

"I know, Carrots," he sighed. "I know." The pair settled into silence, both thinking over the words that still echoed in either of their heads. "But you don't have to worry," Nick started, glancing over to her in a hopeful way. "I'm done."

Judy turned to look at him at the words, her worried eyes softening somewhat he Nick continued to make eye contact, only looking back to the road with quick glances as to not crash. "Really?" She exhaled out, barely audible.

"It's all behind me," Nick confidently assured, nodding at her. "Today has made pretty sure of that."

The smile that was reaching across her face paused as she thought. "So it's just because you're a registered police informant now?" She wondered out loud, her words laced with worry.

"No," he deadpanned at her question, no hint of apprehension whatsoever. "I'm done with it because I want to be. _You_ made sure of that."

Her sad smile pulled on her face as she looked into Nick's emerald eyes. Judy finally broke the eye contact and looking back out her window. "I don't know what to say, Nick."

Nick watched her out of the corner of his eye. "Do you regret making friends with a felon, yet?"

"No," she said shaking her head, turning back to him. She moved on the seat closer to him so that her leg was draped over his lap again to remain straight. Judy placed her paw on his forearm that was gripping the wheel. "You are so much more than your past. We can get over this. I know it."

Nick looked down at her. "You don't sound so sure."

"I'm just shocked," she reassured. Judy shook her head as she looked up at him. "You never should have done any of that."

"I know," he nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. "They were crimes, after all."

"No," she breathed, moving her hand from his arm and up to his shoulder. "I mean you should never of _had_ to do it."

"I didn't, Carrots," he said wistfully. "I did all of those things because it was the easy thing to do."

"You said you started when you were twelve, Nick," Judy spoke, pressing her forehead into his shoulder as her ears fell behind her head. "You wouldn't have done it if you didn't at least _think_ you had to do it."

"That doesn't matter now," he stated impassively. "What's done is done. I can't change the past. I just hope you believe me when I tell you that I _want_ to change it."

"No, Nick," she whispered into the soaked sleeve of his collared shirt. "It's not right to change the past. It's what makes us who we are."

"Ha," Nick dryly exhaled. "I guess you're right. If I wasn't a crummy lowlife for twenty years I would never have met you." He turned his head to the side so that he could look at her while she was leaned into his shoulder. "Now that you put it like that," he started, a lazy smile pulling up his features. "I think the Nick that did all of those horrible things needed to exist, so that I could be here now. With you." Judy's mouth curled sadly into a smile as Nick spoke her own words back to her. "I don't know that I'll ever be able to forgive myself for any of it, but in a kind of messed up way, I'm glad I did those things."

She giggled against his shoulder before peeling herself off of him and looking up into his sharp green eyes. "I guess we both have a lot to work on, huh?"

"Some more than others," Nick quipped. "After all, you're a cop. I've got an excuse."

Judy's eyes lit up at his jab, and she playfully smacked him with the paw that she had rested on his shoulder. She broke out into a short spout of giggled at Nick's mock reaction of pain. "What are we going to do now?"

"I don't know," he smiled. "First time I've been in a situation like this."

"Yeah," she whispered, pulling out her phone and unlocking it. "Me too."

"One paw in front of the other, Carrots," he finally laughed, watching her tap away at her screen. "It's served me well so far."

"Oh, yeah?" Judy asked incredulously, looking up from her phone after she sent her message. "Served you well, huh?"

Nick glanced at her. "Got me to you, didn't it?"

"Yeah…" She trailed off, looking up at him with her eyes full of exhausted joy. She put her phone back into her pocket as she smiled at him. "I guess it did." Judy looked back out the windscreen, shaking her head with a contented expression.

The cab settled back into the cacophony of sound, though there was a comfortable lack of voices. The constant sound of the water hammering the metal enclosement was only broken up by the sputtering roar of the ancient engine and the screeching movement of the windshield wipers. The storm looked like, and most definitely felt like, it was getting worse, but Nick couldn't find the energy to care about that. He was just happy to be where he was.

The rest of the drive was completely uneventful, both mammals finding the relative silence to be pleasantly comfortable. The only activities taking place on the inside of the truck was Judy texting back and forth between someone, though Nick thought nothing of it. Whatever she was texting was probably important to some extent, as she wouldn't be doing it at three in the morning otherwise.

Nick, on the other hand, was relaxing more and more as time went on. The idea that this time yesterday he was sleeping inside the basement of an abandoned factory was starting to sink in. He wasn't too sure how it was even possible for so much to change in so little time, but maybe he was always right there on the brink, and all he needed was a helping hand. _Maybe she's right_ , he thought. _I wouldn't have done any of it if I didn't think I had to_.

 _So that begs the question, Nick_ , his mind shot back. _What now?_ Nick mulled the thought over, nothing immediately coming to mind. _One paw in front of the other_ , he repeated. _And if that doesn't work?_ His face never moved from the smug smile that occupied his featured, but his ears did slightly pull back at the idea that maybe it wouldn't be enough. What would he do if just taking it one day at a time wasn't working? He looked down at Judy, who was looking out the windscreen in front of them with a contented smile. _We'll figure something out_ , he finally answered, his smug curl melting into a genuine smile.

It took some time to reach the Hopps' family estate, Nick being sure to go extra slow so with the storm. When they reached the driveway, the small riverbed that the path snaked through had almost a foot of water, and the truck had made a wake behind his path through the rushing water. He couldn't help but wonder if they got flooded in with a driveway like that. Nick finally spotted the amber glow coming from the lights still on in the enormous structure, and began to pull over to where he had parked the first time, next to a newer looking truck that now took the place he had been in before. Probably her parent's truck.

"Hold on," Judy said, placing her paw on his arm and pointing past the house. "You see that path right next to the house that leads to the barn? Take that."

"Is that where you usually park this thing?" Nick asked as he pulled the truck down the small sloping path that led down around the house.

"Yeah," she answered. "But there's something in there I wanted to show you."

Rounding the edge of the house, Nick caught his first real glimpse of the barn through the downpour. It stood in a rickety gambrel structure, much larger than any of its type Nick had seen. Like the house, its roof was covered in treated cedar shingling, spotted by large growths of moss and weeds. The walls were some of the largest boards he had ever seen. In the city, he had seen outrageous prices on so-called "reclaimed" wood, yet here stood the real McCoy. The structure must have been three stories high.

Nick whistled through his teeth, pulling the truck into the massive open doors at the front of the building. He stopped the vehicle behind a tractor that idly sat in the inside of the barn. It was dark, though not dark enough that his capable eyes couldn't see. It was probably bright enough for Judy to just barely make out rough shapes. One side of the barn was lined with tools and workbenches, while the other was stacked with crates and various bags of miscellaneous items. The floor was a packed earth with trampled hay pressed into the dirt. Looking up, Nick could see the rafters just above the loft, the long beams of wood holding up the roof of the enormous structure.

"Some place, Carrots," Nick said plainly, killing the engine. The rain continued its bombardment on the outside of the building, the sound rumbling through the wooden enclosement loudly. "But I think I could have surmised that it would look like this from all the pictures I've seen on hick barns."

"No," she giggled. "The thing that I want to show you is up the the loft."

"Oh?" Nick asked, raising an eyebrow. "Am I going to get to see the infamous spot where you took all of your conquests?"

"Stop it, Nick," she smacked him on his shoulder playfully. "Let's get going so I can get out of these drenched clothes."

"You're the boss," he smiled, popping the door open and dropping down onto the packed earth of the barn. Turning around, he gestured for Judy to get closer so that he could pick her up. While she was backing into his chest, he looked around the barn. There was a cot in the far back corner of the room, squeezed next to a loaded workbench. That particular bench looked different from the others that lined the wall, having a number of personal items and electronics stacked into untidy piles. There was also a number of posters with scantily dressed rabbits pinned up around the space of the cot, and a row of empty liquor bottles lining the lip of the bench next to the uncomfortable looking livings space.

"Who hangs their hat over there," Nick nodded towards the spot when Judy was settled into his arms.

She looked over to where he was nodding, though she could already guess what he was talking about. "Harrison," she answered boredly. "He's not allowed to smoke or drink in the house, so he sleeps in here a lot of days."

Nick snorted loudly. "Swell guy."

"He's really not that bad," she retorted, looking up to the underside of his muzzle. "You just got to get to know him." Judy reached up with her paw, and grabbed ahold of his chin forcefully, pointing it towards a ladder that hung down from the loft precariously. "There's the ladder," she chirped.

"Yeah, I can see it," he shot back, shaking his head to dislodge her paw from his chin. Nick strolled his way over to the ladder, jolting her weight up into a single arm, cradling it around her tail like he did in the museum. He supported her balance by placing his clawed paw on the small of her back, and started his slow climb up the ladder. "It's going to be hard to do this backwards," he lamented.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about it," she hummed at him, shimmying her tail into his arm more. "We won't be coming down until the morning."

"What?" Nick questioned, stopping on a rung to look down at her.

"We're going to sleep up here," she answered plainly.

Nick's brow furrowed at her. "No, you are not. You need to be in your bed, not in the hayloft of some barn," he trailed off. "I thought you said you don't sleep up here."

"Not _in_ the hay, no," she replied. "But it was a lie to say I've never slept in the loft." She pointed up the ladder as she continued, "Now can we please get up there some time today? I really want to get to sleep."

"We still have to rebandage your leg, so no," he deadpanned. "We're going to head up to the house."

"Nick," she started in an assuring voice. "I know you don't want to sleep in the house. I already asked Hare to put some stuff up there for us, so can we just go have a look first? Then you can decide?"

Nick searched her eyes for a moment before sighing, turning his vision back up above him and continuing his climb. Reaching the top of the ladder, he sat Judy down on the edge so that he could climb the rest of the way up. Once he was there, he bent down to pick Judy up again. She reached her arms up to meet his embrace, grabbing onto the fur on the back of his neck. She settled back into his arms before pointing him down the hayloft to the front of the building.

Nick sauntered lazily down the elevated platform, passing stacks and stacks of hay bales. When he finally reached the end of the loft, there was a large door in the front of the barn. Next to it, a large old wooden spool was set on its side, a collection of items sat on top of it. Two water bottles, a pile of clothes, a thick cotton blanket with a triangular pattern, two towels, and a first aid kit. Nick sat her down on the side of the spool with nothing on it, and looked her over. Her fur was matted from the rain and her soaked clothes clung to her curves.

"Clothes first," Nick huffed, picking up the pile to look it over. To his surprise, there was a shirt and a pair of pants that were his size along with a change of clothes for Judy. "Here," he said, throwing a plain cotton shirt and an identical pair of sweatpants to the ones she was wearing at her. Nick turned away from her and began unbuttoning his shirt as he strolled over to the railing of the loft. He hung his tie up first, pulling the knot down with one finger. He finished unbuttoning his shirt and peeled it off, tossing it haphazardly next to the tie. Nick took a square stance and shook his entire body, water droplets flying in every direction at the quick action.

"Ah!" Judy cried. Nick glanced behind him to see she was covering her chest with a towel; having already taken off her shirt, she was wearing nothing over her chest up a sports bra. "Nick!" She hissed exasperatedly, looking down at herself and all the water he had just thrown at her. He smiled lazily at her as he made his way back over to the spool, taking the other towel for himself. Nick ruffled the fur of his head mostly, having spent very little time in the rain to soak him thoroughly. "Nick?" Judy asked.

"Hmm?" Nick hummed back, lifting the towel from over his head to look at Judy. She had already put on her new cotton shirt, having dried her fur as much as possible. He looked down at her legs, and saw her sweatpants were still soaked, the new ones sitting next to her. "Ah," Nick realized as he draped the towel over his shoulders. He walked up to her and lifted her into the air carefully so that Judy could shimmy out of the wet fabric. When it finally flopped onto the wooden floor of the loft with a wet thud, Nick placed her back down onto the spool. She had changed out her sky blue panties for a pair of checkered boxers. Nick raised an eyebrow at them. "Very lady-like," me mused with a smile, looking up at her.

She snorted at him, hitting his chest with her balled-up paw softly. "Just help me into the new ones," she scoffed.

"Sure thing," he said, picking up the pants and kneeling down to her. He snaked her hind paws through the pant legs, and pulled them up to here thighs, taking care not to drag the fabric or his fingers across her wound. When they were up high enough, Judy grabbed onto the waste of the pants. Straightening out, Nick picked her up again so she could pull them the rest of the way up. He sat her back down onto the spool and turned to the other set of clothes, presumably set out for him. "Why do you guys have something like this," Nick wondered out loud, turning the plain cotton henley shirt around in his paws.

"We've had a couple mammals your size help us out with some harvests," she answered, pulling the first aid kit into her lap and opening it. "When I was a kit, Dad would just pull a bunch of us out of school to help, but these days he feels that school is more important, so Hare hires some hands to help instead. Sometimes they leave some stuff behind," she shrugged, squinting as hard as she could into the first aid kit. Obviously having trouble seeing anything, she pulled out her phone and turned the flashlight on, shining it down into the kit and rummaging around in it with one paw.

Nick hummed to that, pulling the dark blue shirt over his head and looking down at himself. It certainly didn't match his fur all too well, but it didn't look any worse than the pear green hawaiian pattern. He picked up the pants and gave them a look over before tossing them over to the railing with all of his drying clothes. He had not been in the rain long enough for his pants to be soaked. He was now wondering how she had managed to get so soaked. "How did you get so wet?" He asked her, taking some of the medical equipment she was handing to him and kneeling in front of her again.

She looked up at him, careful as to not instinctively point the flashlight at him and burn his retinas. "I came out here first," she stated. "I wanted to make sure you hadn't just crashed in here."

"So it had already started raining when you found out?" He asked, rolling her sweatpants' leg up.

"It's what made me think to check that you got to the train on time, actually," she shot back harshly, still somewhat bitter about the fact that he had lied to her. "When I saw that I _wasn't_ wrong about the one-fifteen train moving to deerbrooke, I nearly broke down Hare's door in a fit."

"Yeah," Nick chuckled at her, peeling off the used bandage from her calf. "Sorry about that."

"You already apologized," she whispered back, watching Nick's care of her leg.

"I know," he trailed off, nodding his head as he threw the bandage aside. Ripping open a package of saline wipes and tossing the trash into an accumulating pill, he continued, "I just wanted to tell you it again. Just in case you didn't believe me."

"I believed you Nick," she answered softly, observing his careful cleaning. She squeaked slightly when he grabbed her leg to keep it still. "It was my fault for thinking staying the night wouldn't bother you as much as it did."

"I had no reason to be bothered by it," he finished, folding up the wipe and placing it on the pile. Nick moved to grab a gauze pad package and ripped it open with his teeth, still holding her leg with the other paw.

"Still," Judy deadpanned. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Nick asked, looking up at her as he placed the pad over the stitched up gash. "For what?"

"For pushing you as much as I did," she answered simply. "I told you I didn't want you to shut me down, Nick, and I went ahead and went too far anyway."

Nick chuckled, reaching for the gauze tape. "Don't be silly, Fluff. You hardly went anywhere," he trailed off as he finished the dressing, sticking the gauze securely to the shaved bit of her leg. "I'm the one that pushed, just in the wrong direction."

"Nick…" She whispered, placing her paw on his shoulder as he looked over his work.

Nick looked up at her for a second, gazing into her amethyst eyes. "It's all good, Carrots," he said straightening out. "Anyway, that should do it. One newly bandaged leg." He stuck up one of his clawed fingers at her. "The first one's free, but I'm going to have to start charging for this kind of thing," he quipped.

"Yeah, okay, _Doctor_ Wilde," she snorted sarcastically. Judy looked down at her leg one last time as Nick rolled her pants back down. "You did do a pretty good job, though, and you weren't even there when the doctor explained it."

"Not my first rodeo," he replied. "First aid is an important thing to know what you have to look after yourself. Nice to know all that practice has seen some _deserving_ use finally."

"Well, aren't I just the luckiest gal in town?" She beamed up at him, pointing over towards a stack of bales next to the door in the side of the barn as she grabbed the blanket beside her. "Can you help me over there?"

"Where?" Nick questioned as he hoisted her up into his arms. "By this stack of bales?"

"Yup!" She chirped. While she was being eased into the spot against the bales on the floor, she let out a contented sigh. "Ah, that's great," she breathed up at the underside of his muzzle before he stood back up. "It's been awhile since I've been up here. Almost makes me feel like a kit again."

"I guess this is your straw pillow, huh?" Nick lazily questioned, looking back to the stack of hay behind her.

"Sure is," she sung up to him, draping her ears against the rough plant matter. "It's kinda embarrassing, really. That's why I kinda skirted around the truth back in the hospital."

"I didn't really expect anything else," he laughed back, a smile creeping over his muzzle, replacing his usual lazy smugness.

Judy smiled at him for a moment before pointing towards the door. "Can you open the door?"

"This thing?" He said, sauntering over to the door in the wall. "It still opens?" Nick continued, unlatching a number of bolts, and swinging it open towards him. The sound of the storm that had been muffled by the building instantly built back up to it's full volume, the door having opened out to the night air beyond. He could see the whole farm through the rain from up here. The back of Judy's home, and the fields that stretched out in every direction.

"Of course it opens," she retorted. "How else do you think we got all of this hay up here?"

"I don't know, Carrots," he began, leaning out the doorway and looking down to the earth below. "Maybe you guys used a conveyer belt. You know, like every other mammal in the twenty-first century." Nick looked above him now, noticing an archaic looking cast-iron hay carrier chained to the lip of the roof that hung over the front of the structure. "I mean, look at this thing!" he exasperated, waving his paw up at the carrier and looking over his shoulder at Judy. "It's got to be a hundred years old."

"Two hundred, actually," she corrected. "I will have you know that hay carrier has seen more use than any belt could last. It's sold iron."

"Jeez, Rabbit," he whispered playfully, strolling back over to where she was sitting. "I thought you said you weren't backwards."

"Har har, Nick," she spoke up to him, reaching up with her paw for Nick to take it. "If you're done making fun of my family home, get over here so we can get some sleep for the first time in _days_."

"Ha, that's rich," he barked out, smiling down at her as she helped him down with her paw. "You got plenty in the car ride."

"All the more reason for you to get over here," she finished, guiding him to sit right next to her. "Since you got none."

"How's this going to work?" He questioned, watching her shake the blanket out of its folded state. "We just going to share the blanket?"

"Yeah?" Judy questioned, throwing the blanket out so it would cover both of their legs. "What else are we going to do?"

"Fine," Nick spoke, raising his paws in surrender as she smoothed it out into his lap. "I'm not making any promises, though," he said, placing his paws back down so that they were over the blanket. "I have been known to be very active in my sleep."

"Have you?" She asked incredulously, scooting closer to him and pressing herself into his side.

"Well, no, but I _have_ been known to startle easily," He replied simply, watching her with great interest as she turned into him and leaned her head into his chest.

"Is it going to be okay?" She looked up at him, pulling away slightly. "I don't want you to feel weird."

"It's nothing like that, Fluff," he said, draping his own arm over her shoulders and pulling her back in. "I've just not been this close to anybody in a very long time."

"Is it uncomfortable for you?" Judy asked, unsure.

"I wouldn't call it that," Nick spoke softly, looking out the open door into the rainstorm. "Just… Different."

Judy looked up at him again, searching his distant eyes. "Different?"

He looked down at her for a moment before smiling. "Different."

They settled into each other, letting their bodies tangle together as the leaned against the stack of hay bales. The odd pair turned their attention out to the opening to watch the storm rage on. "I used to come out here all the time when it was raining," she spoke quietly, exhaustion finally taking her. "It's the most relaxing place in the whole farm."

"I can guess," He nodded back, his eyes not leaving the falling water.

"I didn't have a whole lot of friends growing up," she began, draping one of her arms over Nick's chest. "Folks around here thought I was weird, the odd one out of the litter. I'd come up here to be alone, just to get away from all the mammals that would keep on telling me that I couldn't be a cop, or I should just give up on my dream and settle." She turned away from the open door and buried her face into his shirt. "This place always made me feel like I could do anything, looking over the entire farm from here."

"Why'd it do that?" He wondered out loud.

"I don't know," she sighed into him. "I guess it's the rain. It's like this force of nature, you know? The world just keeps on spinning, no matter what's going on. Like it's all kinda trivial? Does that make sense?"

"Yeah," Nick replied softly, reminiscing over the very long day he had. "Yeah it does."

The pair settled back into a comfortable silence. He had not been in a situation anything like this in so much time, he was having difficulty recalling if something like this _ever_ happened to him. The smile that had been threatening his face since the afternoon, when Judy had found him next to that bridge, finally wrestled control from his smug face. The genuine expression blowing every look of happiness he had made that day completely out of the water. Nick eased back into the hay, careful not to disturb Judy, as he had thought she had already fallen asleep. "You're going back to the city tomorrow, huh?" She breathed quietly into him, showing she hadn't, in fact, drifted off yet.

Nick looked down at her exhausted figure, smiling to the top of her head. "Got to," he started. "As much as I'd like to stay, I've got things I need to do in the city."

"Things?" She mumbled, cocking an eyebrow as best she could while still keeping them closed.

"I'm retiring, Carrots," he reassured. "A lot of times, mammals can't just walk away from a past like the one I've got. I have to tie some things up before I can put it all behind me."

"Are you sure that's what you want?" She mumbled into him again, the soft rumbling sending a shiver down his spine that was unfamiliar to him.

"More than anything," he whispered back.

"Hey, Nick?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For everything," she breathed finally, drifting completely into a contented relaxation. Her breath evening out as she was taken by sleep after the longest day of her life.

"No," he whispered to the sleeping form nuzzled into his side, burying his nose into the top of her head and taking a deep breath of her scent. "Thank _you_."

It did not take long for Nick to drift with the warmth that radiated off of Judy. As much as he tried to fight it, to savor every moment of the feeling that he could, the allure of sleep was too strong. He had spent the longest day of his entire life on a roller coaster of emotions. The life of the hustler, of the fox, Nick Wilde seemed a distant memory, as all he could think about was Judy. His dreams made sure of that.

* * *

 **Leave a review if you've got the time.**


	7. It's a long way up

_11:27 am, September 14th_

* * *

Vaguely aware of a dull warmth buried in his side, Nick drifted weightlessly through fields of bright light, visions of an endless reach of golden waves blowing in the wind danced against the corners of his eyes. He could hear laughing. A singsong voice calling out to him in pure joy, dancing around his form in happy contention. Nick could hear his own voice, in a tone he had never heard before. Joyous in its playful movement, his own disembodied voice sent shivers down his spine.

He could see his own paw reach out into the golden fields, brushing against something as soft as the morning light, a figure materializing in the forefront of his vision. The boundless reaches of wheat flowed out beyond the figure as it began moving away from his outstretched paw, sad eyes watching him as he began his movement chasing after it. Nick was calling out again, this time in pleading desperation. A faint smile reached across the gray figure's face for but a moment before it dissolved into the deep blue sky, fading away completely.

Panic was setting in as the sky grew darker, the rich blue souring in saturation. The gentle flow of the wind that rustled the wheat around him began a wicked dance as it grew torrential. The wheat was dying, the wilted plants falling towards the ground to make room for the rise of oily shadows. The dark smears rose from every corner of his vision, blotting out the dimming sun and robbing the ethereal world around him of any color, any light, as it swallowed him whole. Nick was falling, but he could not scream. All he could do was witness his descent into nothing.

Nick shot up from where he was, jolting quickly as he tried to orientate himself. When he became aware of the form by his side that moved along side him, the night and day before rushed back into his mind. He closed his eyes and let out a shaking breath, leaning back into the bales of hay.

"Nick?" The worried voice that belonged to the dull warmth breathed at him.

He opened one eye slightly, looking down at the rabbit that was staring up at him with one of her paws on his rapidly heaving chest. Nick let out another breath, this one shaking far less as he calmed himself down. "I told you I startle easily," he choked out, smiling at her as he closed his eyes again.

The rain outside was raging still, though the downpour had tapered off somewhat if the sound was any indication. It was light out, but Nick could not think of what time it would be. He had slept longer than he usually did, that was for sure, but the subtle gray light masked any discernible characteristics of time with ease. He felt Judy bury herself into his side again, and draped his arm back over her. "You were mumbling in your sleep," she started simply, her own voice laced with a waking tiredness.

The warmth of sleep radiated off of her and into his fur underneath the blanket, almost burning hot. Nick hummed to her, pushing his own subconscious down as he regained his functions. "Nothing incriminating, I hope," he murmured before letting out a toothy yawn.

"Actually," she let out an exhausted giggle, draping her arm back over his chest to get comfortable again after the sudden movement. "You were pleading the fifth over and over."

"Oh, good," he chuckled back at her joke. "It's nice to know not _all_ of my faculties have betrayed me."

"Yup," she chirped lazily, letting out another yawn before sticking her nose into his side. "Only most of them," her muffled voice came out.

Nick hummed at her, settling back into the bales behind him. "I've got to say, Fluff," he commented. "You were right. Straw pillows are pretty comfortable."

She snorted into his side, sending another shiver up his spine at the vibration. "Only half as good as a fox, actually."

"I'm glad my services are appreciated," he quipped, bringing his head up and opening his eyes. The light didn't burn as much as he would have thought, as the dark clouds that rumbled outside blocked the majority of the sunshine. Nick could see the farmhouse in a new light, the cedar shingling blotched with moss glistened wetly in the gray desaturation. It was much more homely in the day; even the chimney the billowed out clouds of dark smoke seemed almost comfortable. _Perish the thought_ , he commented. _The day that burrow looks comfortable is the day I turn in my fox card_. Nick glanced down at the resting bunny, her eyes closed in a relaxed contentedness. _Looks like I'm going to have to figure out where they'll take it_ , he finished plainly.

"What time is it?" Nick wondered out loud.

"Phone," Judy lazily replied, gesturing beside him with the arm draped over his chest, never lifting it any more than by the wrist.

Nick picked up the cPhone, turning over the white electronic in his paw so the glossy black screen faced him and tapped the power button on the side. What met his vision struck him well and truly dumb. The wallpaper was a selfie of Judy, but more importantly, it was a selfie of Judy and Nick. Taken recently. _Very_ recently. She was smiling up at the camera with her ears parted comically by a slumbering fox, whose chin was draped over her head. Nick's tongue was slightly sticking out of his mouth as he slept in the strange position. Judy's head and arm were the only thing that could be seen, as she was poking out from under his shoulder, the rest of his arms wrapped around her. He involuntarily let out a loud scoff, staring at the picture.

"Oh, yeah," she spoke from her position, never opening her eyes. "I took a picture by the way."

"I can _see_ that," he breathed, brow furrowing at the image assaulting his eyes. The only thing between him and this image's destruction was a simple four digit passcode. So much more manageable than the fifteen digit monster he had envisioned, but equally insurmountable given his circumstances. His thumb tapped against the screen quickly, inputting every important date he could recall about supercop Judy Hopps, trying to remember every date that jumped out at him from when he had looked through the Zootopia Public Library newspaper archives. He had made copies of a number or articles about her, though he didn't really understand why at the time.

The first thing her tried was her graduation from ZPA, June nineteenth, which didn't work. Nick feverishly inputted her birthday, her first day on the job, the date she was accepted under the Mammal Inclusion Initiative, and even her parent's birthdays, which also didn't work. It was surprising what reporters put into their stories to pad out the length, and the negligence of including exact dates had, on more than one occasion, provided Nick with an 'in' on a number of cons. He huffed out a breath in frustration when he was prompted with a message telling him he had locked the phone, having put in too many incorrect guesses. Nick sat the phone back down dejectedly. _No matter_ , he thought. _It's just a matter of time_.

"So," she purred at him, stretching her legs under the blanket. "What time is it?"

Nick realized that he had not even looked at the time, having been sidetracked completely by the picture. "Damn it all," he sighed, picking the phone back up. "Almost noon," he finally answered.

"You were looking at it for almost a minute, and you didn't read the time?" She shot up at him.

"I was trying to guess your passcode," he simply replied, looking back out the open haydoor.

She yawned again before continuing, "Good luck with that, Wilde. I change it every week, and it's _random_."

 _Maybe it's not a matter of time_ , he thought bitterly. _I guess I kinda figured she would have it like that_. Nick looked down at the rabbit nuzzled into his side, still looking like she was on the brink of sleep. "I thought you were some hotshot cop?" He started. "Yet here you are, sleeping to noon and lazing around in bed."

"Shh," she hissed at him, her brows furrowing in irritation while still keeping her eyes shut. "Stop talking. Pillows can't talk."

Nick snorted at her, though his muzzle pulled up into a lopsided smile. "Is this some kind of game to get me to stay?" He soothed down at her playfully. "It's not going to work."

"Did you know our driveway floods?" She cooed up at him, a lazy smile creeping across her featured as she parted her eyelids just enough to give him a mischievous look.

Staring down at her, he tried to piece together what she was saying. Nick recalled the flimsy driveway that snaked down a dry riverbed, but he clearly remembered believing it hadn't seen water in years. Why would they have their driveway like that if flooded? It was a bluff. It had to be. "You're not going to get me that easily," he cautiously replied, calling her bluff.

"It's the truth," she stated matter-of-factly. "I missed lots of school to spring storms when I was a kit."

"I'll swim," Nick deadpanned.

Judy giggled at him, her jovial shaking rustled Nick along with her in their state of being tangled together. She settled back into the crook of his tosto, closing her eyes again. "I don't know," she sung out, drawing out the last syllable of 'know' in alternating notes with a playful expression. "Flood water can be _dangerous_ ," she finished.

About to reply, Nick was cut off by a loud banging sound from the ground floor of the barn. The enormous door that Nick had realized had been shut after they climbed up into the loft flung open, bashing into the wooden wall with a heavy force. "Judy?" A familiar male voice called out into the barn.

"We're up here!" She called down, not moving from her spot.

Nick turned his vision between Judy and the ladder that reached up into the loft, and then back down to Judy. Was she really not going to move? Was she going to let her brother see her curled up into the side of a _fox_? He couldn't put the words together, just sitting there dumbfounded by her contented breathing against his blue henley shirt. His mind was spurred back into motion when he heard Hare climbing the rickety ladder. _"Carrots,"_ he whispered out in a hiss. _"It's time to move over. Come on, get up. Let's go,"_ he continued, poking her side.

"Hush," she breathed back, swatting his paw away before replacing it back on his chest. "I'm not done yet."

His eyebrows shot up as he watched in stunned silence as Hare's ears became visible on the ladder, and they were still rising. _"Is your plan to keep me here,"_ he eased out in a low rumble. _"To have your brother_ bury _me out back?"_

Judy giggled at him before opening he deep amethyst eyes to look up at him, a dull smile pulling the features of her face. "What's the matter, Wilde?" She questioned. "You afraid of a _tiny little rabbit_?"

 _This again_ , he exasperatedly thought to himself, shooting his gaze over to Hare as he nearly rounded the top of the ladder. _This rabbit is going to be the death of me_ , he finished. Hare turned once he had situated himself onto the loft and stopped dead looking at the pair staring back at him. Nick had his ears splayed back against his skull, a frown turning his usual smugness upside-down. Judy, on the other hand, just stared at him expectantly, as if nothing at all was out of the ordinary.

"Afternoon," Nick shot out lamely, stiffening in his spot against the bales.

Hare just stared at them, his dull brown eyes hastily changed from one form to the other as they were tangled in each other's arms. Nick could see he was soaking wet; his fur was matted in every spot he could see and was literally dripping with water. His lower half was caked in mud, layers upon layers of crusting and newly clung wet dirt. The patches in his jeans were completely hidden behind dark stains, and his forearms had lost their gray color in favor of his new earthen gauntlets. He had a long morning out in the rain, which did not make Nick feel any better about the situation at hand.

Without taking his eyes off of the two mammals in front of him, Hare rounded the edge of the balcony and made his way towards Nick and Judy. He only broke his stare when he passed them, walking towards the wooden spool which had Judy's clothes and a pair of towels sat in an unorganized heap. "Did you two stay up here last night?" He spoke softly, looking over the contents on the circular surface.

"Yeah," Judy replied simply, apathetic to her brother's reaction. "Nick wasn't comfortable in the warren."

"Oh," Hare deadpanned as he turned to look at the pair with hard eyes. "Wasn't comfortable over in the warren, was he?"

"That _is_ what I said, Hare," she shot back, putting her paw on his chest to push herself up slightly.

The rabbit in front of them just looked on blankly. "Just trying to see if it made any more sense the second time."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Judy questioned, her brow furrowing at the rabbit.

"I mean," he started pointedly. "He doesn't look like he has a problem with _rabbits_ ," Hare hissed out the last word, looking straight at Judy.

Nick just sat there. He could see that this was getting out of paw _very_ quickly, but he had no idea what he was supposed to do in this situation. "Says the mammal that isn't exactly comfortable in the warren," Judy scoffed at him, shooting her nose up into the air to look down over her muzzle at him. "When he is, in fact, a full-blooded lapin himself."

Hare clicked his tongue off of his buck teeth. "Tryin' to turn this around on me now, are you?" He shot back, his expression losing its blank appearance to a harsher, more indignant one.

"What exactly am I turning around, Hare?" She inquired.

"Oh really? You couldn't _guess_?"

"Gonna have to spell it out for me, big brother," Judy replied, sitting up completely next to Nick, no longer leaning into him as she crossed her arms at Hare. "If you've got a problem, I'd like to hear it. I'm mostly ears, after all."

"Ha," he breathed back as he turned from them and started packing up the first aid kit as to not have to look at them. "I'm sure that'll just brighten up my whole morning, wouldn't it?" hare exhaled. "Gettin' into this with you _again_."

Nick took this time to interject, trying to cut the confrontation short as best he could. "Rough morning?" He said swiftly.

Hare turned from the spool to give Nick the same look he was giving him the night before, when he had first met him on the porch. "Yeah, _fox_ ," he seethed. "Rough morning."

"His name is Nick," Judy angily butted in, giving her brother a look that Nick had not seen since the first day he met her, when he tried to crush her dreams. This was not going as he had hoped. _Maybe you shouldn't have hoped for it to go well, Nick_ , he thought. _Not really sure why you would have hoped that in the first place. It never goes well_.

"My bad," he replied plainly. "I _forgot_."

She snorted at him, pulling herself closer to the bales behind her so she could lean into them. "That's all that liquor woking," she rumbled under her breath.

Hare's face scrunched up into a sneer staring at his sister, and his mouth parted open before Nick cut off his retort. "So!" Nick chirped out in a pained cheerfulness. "You were up pretty late last night, weren't you? Must be quite the diligent agriculturalist if you were out in the fields early on a day like this." The rabbit in front of them turned his vision from Judy to the fox, his sneer diminishing slightly as he observed him. "Out in the fields," Nick continued, pointing one paw out the opening where the rain continued to fall. "When it's raining." His blank stare was back, and Nick could see a storm behind his brown eyes, threatening to blow over at any minute and become a full-fledged shouting match.

After a short few moments of blank staring, Judy spoke. "I believe that was a question, Hare," she called to him. "I suppose all that booze is making you hard of hearing too."

"What she _means_ is," Nick almost shouted, giving the bunny beside him a quick jab in the side with his elbow and a pointed glare before looking back at her brother, "That I am actually curious about farm life, and wondering why you're caked in mud." Hare stared at the fox, a slow realization crossing his face that he was trying to play mediator, which seemed to calm down his rage slightly, though not enough for the storm behind his eyes to dissipate. He clicked his tongue at the pair of mammals lying against the hay bales and turned to the railing, looking at Nick's cloths hung up to dry.

The group of mammals settled into a small silence. The pair of rabbits calmed down as the quiet continued for a short time, the patting of the rain doing much to sooth the heating up confrontation. "The flood was worse than we thought out in the west fields by the creek," he began calmly. "The Abbott kits built a dam out of twigs and mud up stream, and Josiah woke me up before you got back to help. After I brought all the stuff you asked for up here, I was out in the dark for hours with the excavator building a levee to stanch the flow," he turned from the railing and back to the pair. "Hopefully all that damn water gets sent right back to the flat-tailed bastards."

Judy gaped at her brother's words. "It's an honest mistake," she retorted sharply. "They were probably just having a little fun."

Hare snorted at her. "Having a little fun. That's rich," he jibed. "It's an environmental hazard and a pain in my ass to clean up after those twerps all the time. Those folks of theirs watch their own like a predator watches cauliflower," Hare continued, glancing over at Nick with a harsh expression. "No offence."

Nick shrugged. "I don't ever remember watching cauliflower," he eased, still trying to defuse the situation.

"Yeah, well," he scoffed at the fox. "You're not much of a predator, either."

"Harrison!" Judy hissed, sitting up completely as her ears became completely erect and her nose twitched incessantly in exasperation.

"Cry me a river, sis," he shot at her, tilting his muzzle into the air. "I'm plenty warmed up. I've been fighting one the whole time you were up here with your little _pet_."

Judy let out a squeak that Nick could only interpret as the precursor to something drastic. "That's it!" She cried, scrambling from her position to get up, completely ignoring the pain in her leg.

"Woah, Carrots!" Nick said, catching her from her middle and pulling her back down into her spot. "Stop!" He barked at them both, before looking at Judy and giving her an exasperated expression. "Look," he began slowly, glancing over to Hare. "It's been a long morning for you, and I'm sure you're working on very little sleep. Let's just all simmer down a little bit and get back to being begrudgingly polite to each other."

"Looks like you two are being a little bit more than _begrudgingly_ polite from where I'm standing," he deadpanned back.

" _Harrison_ ," Judy hissed out, giving him a menacing glare.

Her brother shot up both earthen paws in surrender and shrunk back slightly. "Fine," he muttered under his breath. "Whatever. I'm done," he said, settling back into his normal posture and watching the pair from across the loft. " _We_ are going to have a talk after I take him to the train station, though," he finished.

Judy scoffed loudly at him, taking his half-surrender more as a mockery than an acceptance of defeat. "How do you figure he wants to go _anywhere_ with you?"

"I've been playing _nice_ , sis," he seethed, pointing a finger at her. "Nobody but me even knows that he's _here_. We've got maybe a couple hours before Mom and Dad are back, and I do _not_ want to have to deal with the shitstorm that is going to bring when they try to put _these_ pieces together," Hare finished, gesturing wildly at the two mammals in front of him.

Two black tipped ears shot up at Hare's words, and Judy's expression grew questioning. "They're gone? Where?"

"City hall again," he replied irritatedly. "After Dad had a look at the levee situation, they went back to town."

"Why?" She asked with interest, still slightly angry at her brother's comments. "The emergency meeting was last night."

"There's going to be a referendum for the current mayor to step down," he replied. "He's a member of Bellwether's United Populace Party."

Judy's expression grew curious, almost confused. "He was independent on the ballot," she spoke out in a questioning tone.

"That's why it was an _emergency_ meeting," Hare gawked at her. A slow realization crossed his face as he looked onto the muddled expressions that perceived his words. "How much have you been following the news since you left the city?" He asked quietly, changing his vision between the pair expectantly.

Both Nick and Judy looked at each other before looking back at Hare at the same time. "Not much?" Judy exasperated, shrugging her shoulders.

Hare let out a swift exhale from his nose. "Well," he began. "It seems like some mammals in the know about her plans didn't quite appreciate them." hare let those words sink in before continuing, "Someone has been putting up data packets online for the past day, filled to the brim with emails, recorded phone conversations, and surveillance pictures."

Nick's ears perked up. "Someone within her own party?" He questioned, cocking an eyebrow.

The rabbit in front of them regarded Nick for a moment before answering. "Hell if I know," He deadpanned. "I just had the radio on in the excavator, and they wouldn't shut up about the so-called "web of conspirators", as they see it." He turned his eyes to Judy to continue answering her question. "Our _independent_ mayor had a number of email chains with Zootopia's former keeper, apparently, and Mom and Dad have been asked to volunteer some time to help with the ballet. The city council feels that the parents of the rabbit that brought Bellwether to justice probably has the greatest chance of not being 'in' on the plot."

"Just how many mammals _were_ 'in' on the plot?" Judy asked guardedly, anticipating an answer she wouldn't like.

"Zootopia's interim mayor's office seems to think it's "inconclusive", though I don't think a lot of people trust the guy."

Nick threw the blanket off of his legs, and slowly started to get up. He smoothed the blanket out to cover Judy as he stepped away from the bales of hay, pressing his paws into the small of his back and pushing out the cricks created through their chosen sleeping position. "Who's the new mayor?" He inquired, strolling over to the railing the held his clothes.

"Rampyke," Hare answered plainly, watching Nick's movements intently. "The city manager."

"Rampyke?" Judy butted in, still resting with the blanket over her legs. "But he's a member of the UPP."

"One of the reasons the city is a madhouse right now," Hare clarified. "Zootopia's council seemed to think he's best suited for the job of supervising the city until the November elections. Why that is, I don't know," he shrugged, losing some of the hostility in his stance. "Seems to me the fact that he's a ram _and_ a member of the bitch's party is proof enough of his partisan affiliations."

Nick pulled the henley shirt over his head, and tossed it over his shoulder to the spool that held the rest of the dirty clothes. Nick saw Hare bristle at the movement slightly, his nose pulling up into another sneer, but his attention was grabbed when Judy asked another question. "Was there anything in the data packets about him?"

Hare looked at her for a moment before clicking his tongue at her. "Look it up on your phone," he deadpanned. "I do not pretend to pay attention to the superficial torch juggling of politics. The riots aren't happening in _this_ town, so I don't care."

"How bad are they?" Nick questioned as he pulled his pear green Hawaiian shirt back over his shoulders. It was still somewhat damp, though in weather like this, he didn't see himself staying dry for long, so there wasn't much point. He moved to start buttoning himself up, starting from the bottom.

"Some cars got burned late last night outside the UPP's headquarters," Hare explained. "But that was after the police raid on the place. Riot cops had to form a line outside the building so they could load up all the files and computers."

Nick popped his collar up after completing his task of buttoning himself up most of the way, and pulled the tie over his shoulders. "Nothing else after that?" He inquired, tying the blue and red fabric into a knot.

"Protests and demonstrations, as far as I could understand it," Hare shot back, walking past Nick and slowly making his way towards the ladder before turning around. "The city is up in a panic, what with all that's going on. They're even doing it out in the rain," he lamented finally.

Nick nodded after he had finished dressing. "Good to know."

"Whatever you say, fox," he calmly replied.

"Dammit, Harrison!" Both mammals turned to the bunny still sitting against the hay staring daggers at her brother. "You call him fox one more time-"

Hare scoffed, cutting her off. "What's your problem, sis?" He blustered out. "Last time I checked, he's got red fur and sharp teeth. That's a fox if I've ever seen one."

"What's _my_ problem?" She gaped back at him, her brow furrowing dangerously in indignant rage. "What the hell is _your_ problem?"

"I've got plenty," he started matter-of-factly. "One of them just so happens to be I just caught a fox in bed with my sister."

Judy sucked in a breath, glaring at her brother with harsh intent. "Nothing even happen-"

"Don't!" He cut her off. "I don't care." Hare turned back to Nick and gave him an expectant look. "Are you still heading back to the city, or not?"

Nick saw at Judy give him a sideways glance, but continued watching her brother. "Yes," he stated simply. "I am."

The doe's eye grew wide as she heard her friend accept her brother's egregiously worded request. "Nick!" She hissed out.

"Carrots," he assuaged calmly, giving her an apologetic expression. "He's right." Nick gestured out the open window, where rain continued to hammer the earth of the farmland that stretched on for miles in every direction. "I have to get back to the city, and I do not want to be here when your parents get back."

Hare scoffed at the pair, turning and continuing his journey to the ladder. "I'll be in the truck," he deadpanned. "Make the heartfelt farewells quick."

"Harrison J. Hopps," Judy barked out at her brother's shrinking form. "You small-minded prick, you can't just walk away after that!"

"This is me, walking away," Hare called back calmly. "I am doing it."

"Damn you, Hare!" She shouted after him. "I thought you _changed_."

Hare swiveled around on the spot, turning his entire form in a fraction of a second and sneered at his sister, pointing an accusatory paw at her. " _Bite_ me, sis," he shot back before turning again and starting his descent down the ladder. "We'll have that little talk when I get back," he finally called up from the ground.

"Yes," she barked down at him furiously "We _will_."

The barn door slammed down below them, sending the space into an echoed silence. Nick continued to watch the ground floor of the barn for a moment before sighing heavily. He turned to Judy, who was looking down at her lap with her ears behind her head, and calmly strolled over to her, sitting back down beside her. Glancing out the window to watch the water fall, Nick wondered why he didn't just push her himself. He had instead sat there with Judy buried into him and done nothing. _So much for that survival instinct_ , he thought, running a paw over his head to smooth down his ears.

Judy began softly, in a barely audible tone. "I'm really sorry about that, Nick," she apologized, looking down at her lap still.

Nick glanced down beside himself at the rabbit blankly. After a moment of silence, he draped his arm on the a bale of hay behind her. "It's no problem," he assured. "You did kind of antagonize him a little bit by not scooting over like I told you."

"It _is_ a problem, Nick," she said confidently, looking up at him with her deep amethyst eyes. "And what we were doing is in no way deserving of that reaction."

Giving her a sympathetic look, he let out a long breath through his snout. "What _were_ we doing, Carrots?" He calmly asked. "Do you take _all_ of your friends up to emotionally significant places and then cuddle with them?"

Judy turned away from him, closing her eyes and pushing her paws into her temples. "I knew it," she breathed out harshly. "You _did_ feel weird about it."

"Rabbit," he emphatically began. "You know me enough by now to realize that _all_ of this is weird to me. Do _you_ not think this is even the slightest bit strange?"

"What? You and me being friends?" She inquired incredulously, turning her vision back up to the fox looking down at her. "No, Nick. I don't."

Nick chuckled at that, shifting slightly so he was more relaxed against the bales. "Are you even related to these mammals?" He scoffed. "You're nothing like them."

"I used to be," she whispered out, lamenting a mindset that seemed so alien now, almost like it was another person entirely. "But that's just it, Nick," she continued confidently. "Change starts with you."

A lazy smile creeped its way across his face as he continued to watch the rain. "Always the optimist," he softly replied.

The pair settled into another bout of silence, just enjoying each other's company. "You are going to call, right?" She asked hopefully, leaning back into his side.

"Every day," he nodded. "Until you're bored of me."

Judy let out a shaking sigh and closed her eyes as she settled back into Nick. "I really hope that's true," she started. "The part about you calling every day, anyway. I really doubt I'll ever get bored of you."

Nick nodded again, this time returning to his more usual sarcastic demeanor. "I am a pretty interesting mammal, I have to say," he quipped. "Lively at social gatherings, too."

"I'm serious, Nick," she said simply, looking up at the underside of his muzzle. "It feels like it's you and me against the world at this point."

"We're severely outnumbered, if that is the case."

Judy let out a short spout of giggles, smiling up at the fox that turned his head to peer down at her. "Not outmatched, though," she stated self-assuredly. "We'll take it all by storm. No matter what people like Hare say."

He smiled down at her before glancing back out the window. "Is it going to be alright?" Nick calmly inquired. "With your brother."

She sighed heavily. "This might sound bad," Judy began in a nasally mumble. "But he has said, and _done_ , things a lot worse. I'm just disappointed, is all." She looked back up to him with a hard expression. "If he gives you any crap on the ride over to the train station, tell me when you call."

"It'll be fine, Carrots," Nick laughed, pealing Judy off of his side and standing up. "Do you want me to carry you down the ladder before I leave?"

"No," she smiled up to him, her ears rising to meet his departure. "I think I'm going to stay up here for a little bit to watch the rain."

Nick turned to look at the route they took to get up into the loft. "Can you get down the ladder?"

"I'm not a cripple, Nick," she smiled wittingly. "The cut isn't even that deep. I'm sure I'll be fine on my own."

"Alright, Fluff," he called over his shoulder as he walked towards the ladder. "I'll talk to you tonight."

Nick was halfway down the ladder when he heard Judy's voice call down to him from the loft. "Make sure you do!" She chirped back at him. He only smiled as he made his way towards the front of the barn, pulling the enormous door open slightly so that he could step out into the rain. The cool water hit him instantly, the wind pushing on him with a large amount of force as he scanned the area outside for the truck. To his luck, Hare had parked it only a twenty feet away, and had the engine idling.

He swiftly made his way to the passenger side door and pulled it open, dropping beside the stewing mammal heavily. Nick rolled the window down, and leaned out the window to look up at the barn. Through the open window, he could see Judy looking down at him. She smiled warmly and waved, causing Nick to smile widely back, showing off his rows of sharp teeth. He gave her an easy salute as Hare pulled the truck into life, driving up the hill towards the house.

Hare snorted loudly at Nick as he rolled up his window. Shaking his head with an expression of pure contempt as he focused on driving. "What's the matter, Hare?" Nick asked easily, giving him a toothy grin. "You were the one that told me not to take the short fall."

He glared back at the fox for a moment before turning his gaze back onto the road. Hare seemed to mull the thought over, the gears of his mind churning away. Grunting out a hollow reply, he grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the bench seat beside him, smacking the bottom against the forearm clutching the wheel a number of times before ripping the plastic packaging off with his teeth. He flipped the lid open so he could grab the filter of one of the cigarettes with his buck teeth, and pulled the package away so that it remained.

Nick just watched his movement, growing uneasy at Judy's brother's increasing indifference. He could deal with pure hatred, he had done it all his life, but when mammal grow into a state of spiteful indifference, there was nothing you could do but ride the storm. A storm that still raged on behind his dull eyes. Nick's attention was grabbed when he heard the flint of a mechanical lighter scratch itself several times before catching. The cab was instantly filled with the burning smell of tobacco, causing Nick's snout to crinkle up in distaste. "Must you?" Nick edgily inquired.

"Sure do," he quipped in a monotone voice, pulling a long drag off of the bundle while he rolled his window down a tad. Hare blew out a thick cloud of ash towards the crack in his window before turning slightly to look at Nick. "I'm trying to ignore the fact that I can smell my sister on you."

Nick watched the glare the rabbit gave him falter somewhat, observing Hare turn back to the road awkwardly to pull another drag off of the burning ember. The cab fell into silence after that. Hare focused on driving, though Nick could see the thoughts race across his eyes, the storm giving way to a consideration throughout their journey towards the train station. _You only just got your very first rabbit that can tolerate your existence, Nick_ , he reminded himself as he watched the countryside roll by. _You can't win them all_.

The drive was actually pretty boring. Unlike when he was riding around with Judy, or even the occasional time he'd roll with Finnick, being in a confined space with a mammal that, for all practical purposes, hated his guts was a real snooze fest. It was a lot like riding the subway in the city, Nick decided. Only this time, he was stuck in the vehicle all the way to the destination. The only thing to occupy his thoughts was the storm raging against the countryside beyond the thin windows of the truck, and desperately trying to ignore the repugnant stench generated by the burning cigarette.

Nick could feel a chilled tingling feeling in the back of his throat from the ash floating around the inside of the cab. It had been a long time since he had smoked, and the drifting embers irritated his sinuses, causing him to periodically lick the back of his throat with his tongue. He could not stand the sensation, and was glad when Hare finally leaned his hand out the window and feathered the coals away, dropping the finished filter out into the storm.

The scenery flew past in silence, Nick not caring to comment on Hare's actions, he traced the fences that lined the dirt road with her eyes. Unfocusing her vision so that they looked like beams floating in the air. When the fences broke away, he would trace the streams flowing next to the road. They slithered along the dirt path, dipping sometimes into metal drains buried in roads that led off the one they were driving. The rain disrupted the surface of the stream, sending the flow into a chaotic haze of reflections.

Enormous plots of crops stuck close to the road. Their sharp angles played weirdly with his perspective. It was mostly Timothy Hay, a popular food for rabbits. Though most of them had grown accustomed to fresh green vegetables and fruits in their civilized ways, Timothy was still widely consumed much to Nick's amusement. Mammals eating grass has always struck him as immensely comedic.

The endless farmland started giving way to small buildings and farms packed closer together as they neared the train station. For a moment, Nick thought he would have just a little more time to watch the fields go by, but he was jolted by their entry into town. A small town with a small town aesthetic. Brick buildings pushed up against each other with shaped signs lined Main St. Old iron light poles stuck up from the newer sidewalk. A lot of mammals were out this morning, mostly bunnies, strolling through the streets with umbrellas and oversized raincoats. Pigs, deer, horses, goats, even a couple sheep walked among them, though there were no predators in sight.

Nick watch the soft architecture pass by his eyes, still refusing to speak. Thankfully, his mind was full enough to allow himself to drift out of alertness and passively admire the surroundings. They passed a number of sleepy storefronts, from quiet monotone restaurants to a brightly colored corner bakery of some kind. It seemed to Nick that it was a miracle anything unordinary could come from such an ordinary town, giving him the impression that they were stuck in a loop of rural routine.

The rabbit beside him was taking a different route than the one they had used to come in. Judy had directed him to take a small road that circumvented the city, going around the populated town center of Bunnyburrow. Hare, on the other hand, drove straight through the city towards the train station. When they past a number of official looking building, Nick could see a large crowd of mammals grouped outside a courthouse, a rabbit standing on a podium and addressing the crowd further down the steps from him. There was a number of rabbits flanking him, including a pair of rabbits that looked incredibly familiar to him. They were gone from his vision before he could get a closer look, disappearing behind brick and trees as they continued down the stormy road.

The old truck turned off of Main St. at the behest of its agitated operator, complaining only with a low squeaking sound. He watched the prey animals laugh and smile as they walked down the sidewalk, constantly being barraged by the onslaught of rain. Nick hoped it would be a lot like this in the city, just with taller buildings and a more diverse species base. He knew that the riots would not allow for such a peaceful atmosphere though. In the city, the rain would serve as an irritation that pushed the aggressive posturing, rather than the relaxing force of nature that it felt like out here.

Suddenly, the truck slowed and turned into a wide lot lined with groomed trees and bushes. Hare maneuvered through the random assortment of vehicles already parked in the space, and took the closest spot to a small yellow and magenta building. It was rounded and colorful, an arched, white trimmed roof sat high on the building, iron accents lining the crests. It was framed on the opposite side by an unkempt wilderness.

The round building silhouetted by a tangle of oak and green. It looked like a barn that had been stylized to look like a rabbit, and it made a smug grin split Nick's face. The structure faced away from them, only windows lined this side. The entire thing was elevated on a sturdy brick platform, ramps and stairways leading up and under a flat tin overhang that stretched from one side of the building all the way around to the train platform.

Hare killed the engine, but did not move. He simply sat in silence, staring out at the train station. "It was because she was doing the right thing," he started quietly, causing Nick to turn and watch him expectantly. "How she got those claw marks," he clarified, looking at Nick plainly. "She was standing up for a couple other mammals over… over some _fair tickets_. He dragged his claws through her cheek just because she was doing the right thing."

He fell into silence looking at his paws that clung to the steering wheel. "Do you think I was doing the right thing?" He asked calmly, not looking at Nick. "Smashing his paw between two cinder blocks?" Hare turned to look at the blank expression on the fox beside him. He sighed heavily, shaking his head in frustration. "No," he eased out. "I was gettin' revenge. Gettin' _even_. In my mind, it seemed like the right thing to do. But that's just the thing about it," he shrugged tiredly, running a paw over his face and scratching the top of his head thoughtfully. "When people let their emotions get in the way of doing the _real_ "right thing", doing good or even just the simple act of not doing evil, it all just becomes a big mess."

Hare glared at Nick confidently, his deliberation leaving him. The storm that raged behind his eyes had been replaced by an exhausted bluntness. "Yesterday you asked me why I would call you a liar," he started. "You asked if it was it because you were a fox or because I knew you were lying. That time, it was because I knew you were lying." He looked away, observing the storm that continued to hammer the truck, filling the car with the constant sound of a low prattling. "This time, it was because you're a fox. I want you to know that."

The cab fell into an uneasy silence at his words. The weight of his feeling given a name, Nick could almost cut the tension with a knife. "Tell me, Nick," he muttered in a low monotone. "Do you know how hard she worked to become a cop?" Hare gave Nick a cursory glance before sniffing hard. He made a screeching sound when he suched in a sharp breath through his buck teeth, making Nick splay his ears back in defence. "I'm sure you can guess, but let me tell you, I was there."

"I saw her get up before the sun to work in the fields and then study well into the night," he clarified, shaking his head at the memory. "Rabbits _couldn't_ be cops back then, not just people didn't _think_ they could, but they were actively barred from even trying. So, she began studying to be a defence lawyer. If she couldn't make the world a better place on the streets, she could try her best a few steps behind." Hare let out another sigh in thought, scratching an itch underneath his chin without looking in Nick's direction. "When Lionheart passed the Mammal Inclusion Initiative, she was ecstatic. But I was… I don't know. I guess I was happy for her. I just saw her work so hard for her dream, and get so much flak from every single mammal close to her, that it was difficult to reconcile such a…" He trailed off, gesturing out the window wildly as he did so. "Seemingly _innocuous_ job as a police officer with all of the struggles she had to overcome."

Hare turned to look at Nick again, giving him another hard glare. "It's _because_ you're a fox, Nick," he breathed out harshly. "It's not you, or being a fox in general. It's because _you're_ a fox." He scoffed again, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "She's had to give up so much already just to get to where she is now, and she still has so long to go… When I saw you two, I just… I just saw more struggle." Hare's face grew sadder as he watched Nick's expression shift slightly. "With everything she has had to fight for, every step of the way, I thought you being in her life was… unnecessary. Just one more tiny thing that she'd have to spend so much time and energy fighting, and I am just so tired of her getting shit. For everything she does. Never catching a break."

Hare let out the longest and loudest sigh yet, and melted into the bench seat. He started picking at the flayed edges of the weathering steering wheel, lowering his voice to a dull whisper. "When people let their emotions get in the way of doing the _real_ "right thing", doing good or even just the simple act of not doing evil, it all just becomes a big mess," he repeated, a distant stare taking his eyes. "In my mind, actin' the way I did to what I saw seemed like the right thing to do. But now… I guess it turned out that I was just another mammal. Giving her shit every step of the way."

"When I told you yesterday that it is a long way up and a short way down, it ain't just for rehabilitation. It's for everything. She's been taking the long way since the day she was born, and it seems like every other mammal is just dandy with taking the short trip down, including me."

Hare looked at Nick finally, giving him an exhausted smile. "I don't need to follow you, Nick. I'm already down here. I guess I never _really_ left, if that spat in the barn is anything to go by." He laughed at himself, glancing out the window before continuing in a barely audible whisper. "She ain't got no one else to walk the path with her, but I'm hoping she does now. You ever take that short fall, and I'll be waiting right where I'm at, but I'm hoping she's finally caught a break. A break that might make it harder for her down the road, sure, but maybe when it does get bad again, she'll finally have someone with her to help."

Nick stared at the rabbit sitting next to him blankly. "I don't know what to say to all of that," he simply replied.

Hare snorted loudly, pulling another cigarette out of his carton and biting into the filter. "Don't say anything," he mumbled out, waving his paw at Nick dismissively. "Now get the hell out of my truck."

Nick couldn't help himself and barked out a laugh, continuing his fit of amusement as he popped the glove compartment open and pulled out his old wallet, leaving the police scanner behind as he closed it shut. "Such a gracious host," he chirped, opening the truck's door and jumping down onto the wet pavement.

"Hey, Nick," Hare called out to him before he closed the door.

"Yeah?" He replied, cocking an eyebrow at the mammal still behind the wheel.

Hare stared at him calmly, his sad eyes disappearing behind a blank expression. An expression Nick had been quite familiar with for a long time. "It wasn't just because I was gettin' too old," he started bluntly. "I saw someone I really cared about get _very_ hurt because of what I was doing. Don't make the same old mistakes the likes of me have made. All the good of that life is a distant memory, but all the bad…" Hare trailed off, rolling his head from side to side. "It'll stay with me forever. And forever's a long time."

Giving the rabbit a look over, Nick could see the seriousness behind his words. It was beginning to unnerve him how familiar the of this mammal really was. Nick had seen so many mammals beaten down by life that it was easy to recognize, but it never made it any easier. "You could always take that long way up. I'm sure Carrots would say it's never too late to start."

Nick could see the phantom of a smile reach the corners of his mouth. "She would," he nodded. "But there's some things you can't come back from."

"Do you really believe that?"

Hare looked away, unable to meet the fox's eyes. "Maybe I want to," he whispered.

Nick watched the rabbit for a long moment. "Goodbye, Hare Hopps," he stated simply, nodding at the rabbit.

Hid long sandy ears perked up at the tone of Nick's voice, and he turned to look at him. "Next time, Nick," he replied without a hint of emotion. "We'll catch a drink."

"Alright," Nick smiled at him. "Your treat."

This time, a real smiled pulled across the rabbit's face. "Not on your life, fox," he pointedly jibed, turning the engine and pulling away without another word.

Nick smiled at the tail lights disappearing into the distance after it turned back onto the main road. He stood in the rain for a moment, lazily taking in the bombardment of water. A heart breath escaped his muzzle as he shook his head in the rain, pulling his paws into his pockets and strolling over to the ramp up to the platform.

As he reached the top of the ramp, the side of the narrow building came into view. It was a ticket booth nuzzled evenly into the side of the yellow wood. An old bunny reading a newspaper sat just inside the booth. The wind of the storm brushed the fur on his ears lightly, exaggerating his plain looks. He was wearing an ordinary blue button up shirt and black slacks that rolled up against his knees and elbows. He glanced disinterestedly up from his paper. Seeing he had a customer, her folded it neatly and patted it down on his desk. "What can I do for ya, sir?" He cheerfully offered, despite his tired expression a small slime cracked on his features.

"Next train to Zootopia, actually," he answered kindly.

The old bunny scratched his muzzle as he replied, "That'll be the twelve-thirty. Should be rolling through here in a few by now," he muttered the last part out, leaning back into his chair to peer back into the building, looking for a clock.

"That'll be fine," Nick said, pulling out his wallet and handing the rabbit a pair of $20 dollar bills, having already read what tickets usually cost in Bunnyburrow the night before, at the diner.

The older rabbit grabbed bills with one hand, and pulled out a the piece of decoratively official cardstock from under his desk with another. He brought it onto his desk, effortlessly taking a stamp in one hand without having to even look at it, and lifted a wooden compartment on his desk. The dark, wet substance on the inside glistening in the desaturated light. He smashed the wooden handle down into the substance and rolled the weight around in his hand. Satisfied, he retracted his hand and closed the compartment. With much ease, he stamped the handle down onto the cardstock that sat on his desk. Lifting it up, there was an ornate railway symbol on the paper in dark blue ink. He shook it about for a second before handing it over to Nick.

"Thank you," Nick smiled at the rabbit behind the booth and taking his ticket and change. "Have you got any payphones around here?"

"'Round the bend," the rabbit replied, nodding his head around the side of the building to the platform.

Nick nodded and turned to leave, strolling back around toward the platform proper. It was a flat station, covered completely in a simply framed overhang, held up by giant carrot shaped supports. The platform floor was entirely made brick tiles, and there were windows that lined the yellow building even on this side, the only difference being a small door near the middle of the platform. Iron and wood benches lined the building and between the carrot beams keeping the magenta overhang up. Nobody else was waiting for the train. A lone wind chime hung near the front of the station, sending out a singing clattering in the storm.

He strolled over to a number of payphones situated against the barn-like building, pulling out a collection of coins he had just received from the ticket booth. The phone rung for a number of timed before an incredibly low and rough voice shot out the earpiece. "Who is it?" The disembodied voice grunted angrily.

"Hey there big guy," Nick quipped into the receiver. "How's my second favorite fox doing?"

"Nick?" Finnick exasperated. "Where the hell you callin' me from, huh? This ain't no city payphone I've ever seen."

"Oh, I'm not in the city right now," Nick answered plainly. "Point is, I need you to pick me up from Central Station in a couple hours."

"Man, you've got some nerve," the small fennec scoffed at him. "The city's up in a fit, and you want me to pick you up on the front lines of these fool's shoutin' party?"

"Yeah," Nick nodded. "That's about it."

Nick could hear Finnick scoff loudly at him from the other side. "Whatever. What time you gettin' in?"

"Should be around three forty-five, if I was to guess."

"If you were to guess?" He grumbled. "What you want me to do if you take longer?"

"I don't know," Nick breathed, pressing the phone between his head and shoulder so he could pick at his claws. "Why don't you just talk to that vixen that works in the Juice Bar?"

"Where the hell are you, anyway?" Finnick shot at him. "What takes more than three damn hours to get here?"

"I'm in Bunnyburrow," Nick replied without a hint of playfulness.

The line went dead for a few seconds, and Nick could only hear the low breathing of the fox on the other end of the line. "Aww, Nick," Finnick let out a disappointed rumble. "Please tell me it ain't so."


	8. Another day in paradise

_3:27 pm, September 14th_

* * *

A lone fox stood at his spot in the front of the glass cylinder, leaning against the handrail that encircled the viewing deck. The country had changed quite drastically from Judy's oaken home of grassy knolls and tranquil rivers after it made the long journey through the mountain range, but since then it had seemed like it had not changed a single bit. The dense pine forest that surrounded him was vast; a small paved road ran the length of the track to his right, and power lines hung from old wooden beams on the other side. It was still raining. The monochromatic atmosphere of the storm sapping the color out of the dense forest.

The fox let out an audible sigh in the empty compartment, bring up his paw to scratch the back of his neck. Nick had spent the majority of the train ride up on the viewing platform, thinking about the long couple days he had. It seemed to him that something had snapped inside him; a new mammal that he was not familiar with brought about a mindset that unnerved him. He was being _positive_. An egregious sin the eyes of the confox that lived on the edge of his seat for nearly twenty years. However, Nick was finding it hard to fight it. The night before had somehow melted his cynical voice into nothing but a dull feeling in the back of his head; long gone was the conflicted debating inside his own mind.

More than that, he had occupied his time thinking of his next move. Nick had always planned out his adventures well in advance, as a con was only half thinking on your feet. The other half was always being prepared; being mindful of your surroundings, the variables, the hundred different ways it could all go wrong. It was like he always had a Plan B if things didn't go the way he had expected, and following the failure of that plan, he had a Plan C, D, E, you name it. Being blindsided was the worst way for a con to go wrong, because when you don't account for every variable, you lose. And Nick did _not_ account for this variable.

Never in a million years had he planned to ever actually _want_ to leave the lifestyle. He had planned for the opposite, actually; Nick had hedged his bets on living forever just as he was. _I guess the joke's on me,_ he thought boredly. _So much for planning for every outcome_. Hating to be in situations where he was at a disadvantage, Nick had more times than not just turned tail and ran. You could always come back later and pick up the pieces, but having the life he had, with the mammals he worked with, it was often a smarter move to just run away. You can't pick up the pieces when you're dead.

Nick had no such luxury this time around. He had made Judy a promise, and that was that he was done. If there was one thing that Nick knew for sure, you can't get out by just skirting around it. You had to do the one thing that he had promised himself he would never do: stand his ground. There was a very good reason he promised himself that, too, as standing your ground with _these_ mammal was akin to attempting to stop a barreling train by sticking your paws out in front of it. Could he do it? Nick looked back at his day, recalling his quiet little conversations with a mammal he had never believed in a million years would be in his life. If one thing was possible, why not the other?

He stared back out of the glass. The landscape would be changing soon, the empty forests making way for civilization, then growing larger and into the metropolis of Zootopia. The soft pine would be replaced with the towering concrete that shoots straight into the air. He had already seen a few small buildings lining the road. Coming closer to the rocky coastline, the train ride having taken him southeast after the mountains, Nick was quickly approaching the sea, and he could smell it. It would curve northward and meet up with the coastline before continuing its journey north to the city. It was only a matter of time, now. Even so, the last legs of any journey always feel the longest.

Truth be told, Nick was right. It wasn't long before his view had changed dramatically. The pine forests that enveloped every inch of the rocky hills were beautiful in the storm's fury, but the dreary coastal abodes that took the place of the trees did not look nearly as elegant. Buildings were becoming a regular thing, small towns stretching for more and more miles.

From Nick's vantage point in the train, he could tell that they were getting closer and closer to Zootopia, the mythic city of "cooperation". The viewing deck was filled with the sound of a loud scoff; Nick almost spitting at the thought of "peace and cooperation" at a time like this, when the whole city was in a state of panic and hostility. He glanced away from the rapidly approaching bend that would grant him his first sight of the city since he left. Far over the coated pine hills, he could see the dark haze of the ocean through the ribbons of falling water. The deep water looked darker in the overcast, reflecting no light at all.

An uneasy apprehension was weighing down Nick's shoulders as he leaned more into the railing, his ears flickering in nervous anticipation. He slouched into the glass, thumping his forehead on the transparent surface and closing his eyes. His tail was limp against the floor and he had taken to inhaling long, drawn out breaths of worry. _I should have stayed in Bunnyburrow_ , he mused. _Maybe get a job and spend the rest of my days as farmhand or something; make a real name for Reynard Sharp as the best blueberry picker west of the Iles_. Nick let out a dismissive snort and lifted his chin up just as the first glimpse of the city he called home came into view.

The train rounded the bend swiftly, breaking out from the mainland to sail across the dark water of the bay on a simple bridge. Finally, the whole skyline came into view behind the rainstorm that fell between Nick and the city, towering structures of glass and steel. The Downtown district rose up from the water and buildings around its base, dwarfing the area around it. The base of the enormous cityscape tapered off below it into Savannah Central and Sahara Square, being framed on either side by Tundratown and the Rainforest district. The sight that would take the breath away from most mammals produced no reaction from Nick. He could only glare at the city, a bittersweet feeling rising from the pit of his stomach.

It did not take the train long to pass over the bay, coming back onto land as it entered Sahara Square. Nick barreled past a sign welcoming travellers into the city, causing him to frown. From his spot, he could see everything as the track took its loop around the city. The beautiful and enormous trees and vegetation of the Rainforest district. The cold looking sharp peaks of Tundratown. The low, industrial setting of Savannah Central. It was all a lie. The first thing that Nick had learned when he was on his own was the city wasn't what you saw, it was what you didn't see. An expression of exhaustion had set itself into Nick's features, and he willed it away as he snapped his jaw closed several times. "Another day in paradise," he mumbled out to the empty compartment.

The train arrived at the Central Station in no time. A flat, glass and steel building of immense size. He entered the station from an elevated track, freeways stretching in all directions below him. Zootopia's Central Station was nothing to shake a stick at. Saying it was immense was an understatement of an egregious nature. The building looked like a massive aircraft hanger, a roof made of a curving glass stopped the rain from pooling down by the interior tracks. It was made out of limestone and steel, a pale beige color, accentuated by green outlining. The main room of the station was easily the largest enclosed space Nick knew of. Rows and rows of tracks fed into the completely open back wall, coming into alcoves sandwiched in tiled walkways for passengers to freely exit and enter the trains.

The walkways all headed out toward the front of the building, a station with formidable infrastructure to cater to any patron's every need, regardless of species. At the front of the enormous building was a stained glass mural of simple tree designs and stone pillars reaching all the way up the arcing ceiling. The arches and curves of the ceiling decorated with almost victorian quality. Studded and printed with the most intricate and grand designs.

The plain color did nothing to inform on the absolute scale of the building, yet Nick couldn't bring himself to be impressed. To him, it was just another place. He had spent plenty of time selling watches and handing out flyers for business ventures up the steps, but that's all the surface level places in Zootopia were to him. Spots where he could hustle mammals. It seemed to him that they were just like favored fishing spots and bountiful dumpsters. Just a location he could exploit for his own needs. Now that he fancied himself a "changed" mammal, it didn't look like anything to him. Just a couple bricks and panes of glass.

Nick turned from the viewing window and made his way towards the elevator. There was no staircase to get up here, because there just wasn't enough room to build enough staircases to accommodate every size. Instead, the designers built an elevator at the back of the compartment, the doors flanking it led into the other cars behind it. Nick wasted no time in strolling over the ridged metal floors, and into the elevator.

The plain cylinder shape was big enough for the largest of mammals, but not really tall enough. Nick imagined if there were any giraffes that used these trains, they would just sit in the first floor, their long necks sticking up into their own viewing room. The panel to control the elevator was a sleek black bar running the entire height of the lift. It was a quasi touch-screen, which was really just a motion sensor blind as could be unless you swiped your paw across the bar directly. Since the elevator only had two places to could go, it really only needed one input.

It was originally built so you could just wave your hand without having to touch anything, but Nick guessed that must not have worked out for whatever reason. An assortment of horizontal scratched were left in the wall across the black bar. Mammals with long claws generally trimmed them to duller points for the sake of convenience if nothing else, but they were often still tough enough to scratch metal and plastic. Nick placed his paw on the wall of the elevator and swiped it across the bar. An electric tune played over a speaker at the top of the lift, the grinding protest of the doors closing following shortly after.

The lift lurched into a vertical movement, making Nick sway in the motion. The whirring of the lift's mechanism could be heard for a time as the elevator descended. It stopped after a very short couple seconds. Another tune played over the speaker as the doors slid into motion, moving around a circular pivot so that the door entered inside the rest of the cylinder. Nick stepped out into the first floor of the train. Hardly anybody else was taking the train today, the first floor only being occupied by a few smaller mammals.

He had just made his way down the taped ramp when the train came to a complete stop, the familiar tune playing over the car's speakers. Just as the doors opened, he was out onto the tiled pathway that stood at the same height as the train car's floor. Green iron benches and antique looking street lights stood in alternating fashion down the pathway towards the stairs that led up to the station proper.

Nick sauntered over to the escalator, noting how scarce the amount of mammals milling about were. It was like every mammal there was in a rush to get out of the station as soon as possible, and all of them seemed to be agitated to no end. It was possible that it was just the rain, but as Nick slowly rose on the mechanical steps, he could pick out a sound beyond the rain's constant downpour and the light bustle from inside the station. A tone played over the intercom, sending a hum throughout the building. _"Thank you for choosing the ZTA for all your commuting needs,"_ a female voice eased out over the platform. _"Please exercise caution when exiting the station, and have a nice day."_

Nick's brow furrowed when the cacophony of sound was given form. Rounding the lip of the escalator, he could see an enormous crowd outside the row of glass doors in the square. They were all holding protest signs and marching around, their voices carrying through the station in a loud rumble. They were being drenched by the pouring rain, but they continued marching. Some mammals had megaphones, shouting out chants across the amassing collection of animals.

Blinking, Nick raised his eyebrows at the sight. It seemed to be a mixture of both prey and predators out in the square, but who was on whose side was lost on him, as the hundreds of mammals all blended together. _What sides are there even_ , he thought dumbstruck. _What the hell are they even shouting about?_

A whistling sound broke Nick's blanks stare, and he glanced over to the Juice Bar, where a small fox was sitting in front of a completely barron kiosk. The fennec waved Nick over, and turned back around in his seat. "Can you believe it?" Finnick's incredibly deep voice grumbled as Nick approached behind him. "Damn Juice Bar is closed." The fennec swiveled on his stool, looking at Nick with an irritated expression as he sneered. "I had to wait at an empty bar for you to-" He cut himself off as his nose scrunched up. His sneered grew practically larger than his face as he looked at Nick. "You _reek_."

Nick smiled at him, giving the fennec his trademark smug grin. "I haven't gotten a chance to shower today," he started lightly. "Would that I could find nice spot to scrub myself in the rain."

His smile was tapered when the fennec scoffed at him loudly, turning around on his stool to lean on the counter. "No amount of scrubbing is going to take _that_ shame away," he seethed, refusing to look at Nick.

"Your nose must be having an off day," Nick replied, watching the smaller fox intently. "You can't smell any of that on me."

"Do I need to?" He asked, turning to Nick. "Does it matter if you reek of sexed up rabbit, or just plain rabbit?"

Nick snorted at Finnick. "You tell me, big guy," he retorted, weaving his paws behind his back. "You seem to be thinking they're one and the same."

Finnick clicked his tongue at the red fox, shaking his head. "You must be out yo' damn mind, Nick," he began. "That fluffy fuzz walked into yo' life and took ya for a fool. One minute we're making money like there ain't no tomorrow, and the next yo' sulking like a pup with yo' tail between your legs."

"Watch it," Nick barked, baring his teeth at the smaller fennec. "You've got some nerve to say that to me-"

"I ain't done," Finnick cut him off, pointing an accusatory paw at him. " _Now_ yo' callin' me in the middle of a riot to pick ya up from a train comin' out a' _Bunnyburrow_." The fennec scoffed at the red fox and hopped down from his stool. "The only reason I am still talkin' to you is _because_ I can't smell none of that one you."

Nick scowled down at the mammal in front of him. "And here I thought we were friends," he darkly quipped. "You're breaking my heart, Fin."

"Ha," his deep voice dryly shot out. "Seems you made a new one."

"What's the matter," Nick leaned in. "Jealous?"

"Of that fluffy new tail of yo's?" Finnick replied lazily, meeting Nick's disinterested gaze with his own. "Nah," he breathed out, exhaling while pulling his lips back to show rows of sharp teeth. "I'm more sympathetic than anythin'. She's got to deal with yo' red ass, huh?"

"Your admiration never ceases to delight," Nick said, giving Finnick a lopsided smirk. "I'm glad you've come over to my side."

"Oh, no no _no_ ," Finnick chuckled as he turned to walk towards the side door the led into the parking garage. "I ain't nearly _that_ desperate for tail, Nick."

"There you go again," he shook his head, following after the fennec. "It's like you just can't accept my lifestyle."

Finnick scoffed at the mammal following him. "Acceptin' yo' lifestyle was when I wasn't carin' that you slithered yo' ass into a new hole in the ground every night." He tilted his head back to look at Nick as they passed into a hallway. "This is me bein' the best damn friend yo' ungrateful hide's ever had."

"How do you figure that? I've been nothing but grateful."

"Uh-huh," the fennec let out a nasally breath, waiting for Nick to open a push-bar door. The walked into a cement parking garage filled with cars of every size, and Nick could see Finnick's van parked down the lot after observing the space for a moment. The vehicle was a burnt orange color that had been weathered since it was last painted. The design on the side reflected that of an aztec warrior who had just saved a helpless damsel, but the retro color scheme long since fading in contrast, giving the side of the vehicle the impression of an old polaroid photo that had been left out in the open for too long. The driver side door had been stripped out and switched with a plain gray replacement.

Nick plopped down on the passenger's side, reveling in a vehicle that was accommodating to his size once again. Finnick scrambled up to the driver's seat beside him and turned the ignition; the engine roared to life in happy chugging, Finnick's careful maintenance shining brilliantly through the sound. "Purrs like a dream, Fin," Nick chirped, pulling out a pair of sunglasses that he had left in the passenger side door and slipping them over his muzzle.

"She better," He shot back, pulling the van into motion towards the exit. "She'd be in deep shit if she didn't."

"Don't be so harsh," Nick cooed, patting the dashboard lovingly. "You'd both be lost without each other."

"Yo' a funny mammal, Nick," Finnick deadpanned.

"I'm glad someone thinks so," Nick lamented, his face pulling into a contented smile as they neared the entrance.

"What's the matter," he threw over to his passenger sarcastically. "Yo' bunny bumpkin not laughin' at yo' jokes, huh? Must be a _slow_ crowd out in the sticks." Finnick clicked his tongue before glancing over at Nick, "Flat-tooth's never did catch yo' humor, Red. Flies a little low for them raidar ears of theirs. Ya shouldn't be so hard on yo'self."

"You sure you're not trying to beat me out on being the funniest mammal around?" Nick questioned, giving Finnick a sideways glance. "You could do a whole routine, Fin. If you could reach the mic."

Finnick clicked his tongue again, giving the red fox beside him a disenchanted look. "It's a wonder," he started. "How that cottontail friend of yo's can stand yo red ass long enough to smother you in her scent."

"I've just got a magnetic personality," Nick smiled at the fennec driving.

"'Suppose you do," he replied. "Opposites attract and whatnot," Finnick trailed off reaching out the window when they came to a stop next to a booth. A Zebra dressed in a dark blue uniform took the fennec's money and parking receipt, returning his eyes to his desk to work out Finnick's change. "You should really be quicker to deny it, Nick."

"Deny what?"

Finnick turned his harsh eyes back to the red fox next to him after receiving his change from the Zebra. "Mammals are fickle things," he seethed out. "But one thing they ain't fickle about is what I'm lookin' at right now. Whateva' happened to that fox with a survival instinct?"

Nick frowned at the smaller mammal, vibrant green eyes narrowing clandestinely behind dark shades. "Would you like to point out my oversight?" He shot back at his friend. "Or do you _want_ to be vague enough that I have to guess?"

"Vague?" Finnick chuckled out, bringing the van into motion smoothly. He shook his head as he replied. "Nick, I ain't sure why _I_ have to be the one to inform you 'bout this, but you are a _fox_ , first of all. That's strike one. Strike two is a pleasant little thing I like to call 'actin' the fool'. You know what I mean by that?" Finnick glanced over at Nick, waiting for an answer he knew wasn't coming. "I mean you look like you just crawled out of a dumpster," he continued, puffing out a breath in exasperation. "Cherry on top is strike number three. You won't guess this one."

"Enlighten me," Nick boredly proclaimed.

"Strike number three is the fact that you're rollin' 'round smellin' like you just had a five course meal of rabbit."

Nick shot Finnick a pointed glare, pivoting his shades down on his muzzle slightly so he could narrow his eyes more visibly. "I don't suppose you're trying to piss me off, are you? Your jokes are starting to get a little difficult to pick up."

Finnick clicked his tongue at the red fox next to him. "I knew it," he started quietly. "You gone soft on us, Nick. I'm just lookin' out for my own, something you've apparently deemed isn't worth much of yo' time." Finnick glanced over to his passenger, observing the slanted expression that was being beamed in his direction. "Word of advice, Red," He said, giving Nick a toothy smile. "And this is just me continuin' to look out. You don't want to look soft, maybe think of brushin' off some of that rabbit fur that's stuck to yo' neck."

Startled, Nick quickly ran his claws through the fur of his neck and brought it up to his muzzle. Sure enough, she had been shedding on him. It wasn't just guard hairs, either. No, Judy had left quite a few down hairs on him, and that was usually a sign of close proximity, not just a passing brush. He cursed under his breath, continuing to run his claws through his fur like a comb, attempting to get as many as he could. Finnick only shook his head at the motion, giving Nick an apathetic look.

The van rattled over a metal grate at the bottom of a concrete ramp. As the van slanted upwards, the dark clouds and torrential rain was framed by an enormous concrete archway, brightly lit by artificial light against the dark gray of the sky. A low rumble made its way to Nick's ears again, and when the van crested the ramp, the cacophony of sound was again given form. The crowd of hundreds of protesters continued to march in the rain and streets, shouting chaotically at each other and just the air around them.

Finnick slowed exponentially as they reached the collection of mammals; the brightly colored van's halogen headlights flipped on, capturing the attention of the mammals directly in their path. The ocean of mammals, big and small, parted ever so slowly, allowing the van to pass through at a snail's pace.

The rabble became almost too much to bear, but neither fox offered any sort of reaction to the sound. Even when the protestors started banging on the side of the van, shouting at the occupants behind the windows, they still simply stared out, quietly observing the actions of the mammals. They held signs, chanted slogans, and wore disenchanted scowls on all of their faces. It was like the whole population had lost their minds to hate.

"A lot of prey out today," Nick calmly remarked, watching a boar shout something indecipherable at him with a blank expression.

"'Bought as many of us," Finnick agreed, blaring his horn a couple times to make the mammals blocking their path move out of the way. "That's still about a tenth of what it could be."

It felt like it took ages to reach the end of the mob, the snail's pace not at all aided by the constant banging and shouting against the van. When they finally did reach the end of the crowd, Finnick sped up just as one last kick brought a final bang against the tail end of the vehicle. The fennec cursed under his breath as he looked through the rear-view mirror at the disappearing mass, scowling deeply at them. Police officers geared up in full riot equipment stood idly by the crowd, watching the ruckus intently. Nick turned around in his seat to watch the trickle of mammals feeding into the square disappear behind the buildings.

"How long has this been going on?" He inquired, glancing over to the van's driver.

"Started congregatin' some time last night," Finnick replied, fiddling with his shirt pocket. "Seems the storm's churned up some muck." He brought out a candy lollipop from his shirt pocket and bit the wrapper off, a leftover from a scam that didn't go too well. Nick could remember back in the day, he and Finnick had picked up some nicotine suckers with the intent to turn them around. They bought maybe a couple hundred regular suckers, unpackaged them, dipped them in the melted down nicotine juice, and repackaged them all as full fledged smoker candies right down to the core. It had turned out the nicotine derivative got banned the next week. "The city stinks," he finished, sticking the candy into his maw.

"You know those things are _literally_ poison, right?" Nick asked, knowing full well that Finnick knew. He might have been the one to drop the scam when he found out they were poison, but Finnick was just as reluctant to actually sell them with that knowledge.

"A couple a year ain't gonna kill me," he curled his lip at Nick. "'Sides, half the shit we eat these days is poison; ain't the sucker that's gonna get me. Where we headin', anyway?"

"Over to the lot," Nick answered, turning to look out the window at the storm raging against the empty streets. "I need to drop off my wallet and grab a few things. Did you get what I told you?"

Finnick hooked a thumb behind him towards the back of the van. "It's in the back," he mumbled out with the sucker still in his maw.

Climbing over the center console, Nick mosied his way into the back of the van to retrieve his request. Thrown over a box held in place by bungee cords was a blood red collar shirt with sky blue flowers. A pair of golden yellow slacks and a lavender tie was also piled onto the cardboard, showing off a mishmash of colors that could seldom be called anything more than 'entirely random'. Nick lifted up the brightly colored shirt so that Finnick could see it in the rear-view mirror. "What the hell is this?" He exasperated, holding the shirt in his paws like it would bite him.

"It's a shirt, Nick," Finnick deadpanned. "You told me to get you a shirt."

"Yeah," Nick trailed off, looking at the fabric skeptically. "But I said get something classy."

"I ain't about to ride around the city in the damn rain lookin' through your stupid-ass caches for something classy," the fennec barked over his shoulder. "I ain't convinced you even _have_ something classy in any of them."

Nick placed a paw over his chest in mock disbelief. "I have at least three suits around," he defended.

"Well," Finnick easyed with a harsh edge to his tone. "Next time please tell me where they are and I'll get it."

Nick scoffed at the smaller mammal as he unbuttoned his shirt. Pulling his tie over his head and shedding his pear green collar shirt, he stuck his nose into his arm and breathed a deep take of his scent. It was true. He _did_ reek, and not just of rabbit. Rabbit was just a small, though very noticeable, part of a cocktail of scents ranging from dried out hay to synthetic leather. _I should really think about finding one of those gyms_ , he thought. _I'll pick up a membership card at the lot… I think I have one there, anyway._

Now dressed in colors so bright it would make eyes bleed, he elegantly jumped over the center console and landed with a hard thump on the seat, knowing Finnick hated hind paws on on anything but his floorboards. "Have you been up near Hill Street?" Nick questioned, knotting his lavender tie around his neck.

"To all them offices that they burned?" He questioned.

"They burned the offices?" The red fox inquired, looking up from his work around his neck. "I thought it was just a couple cars."

"Nah, Nick. They burned the whole damn lobby. They've been dishin' out fox bombs since before breakfast."

Nick's eyebrows rose high above his sunglasses. "Tear gas?" He incredulously breathed. "On Hill Street?"

Finnick gave Nick a hard stare, cocking one of his own eyebrows at his passenger. "When'd you skip town anyway?" He said, shaking his head. "Yo' more out of the loop than the damn prey."

"I was gone before eight. I didn't even know there were riots until about noon today."

Finnick let out a dark laugh, flipping his blinker on as he slowed for an intersection. "And yo' first thought was 'I better take the train back right now'?"

"To be fair," he answered as he rolled his head around. "I was already on my way back."

"Oh, right," the fennec scoffed at him. "Long-ear's parents catch a fox in the burrow?"

"On their way back from some City Hall thing, actually. Couldn't be caught skulking around when they got home, now could I?"

"So ya _did_ spend the night in a goddamn rabbit burrow?" He retorted, ignoring Nick's attempt at levity. The fennec's enormous ears parted slightly as he gave him an expression of both disbelief and ridicule.

"Just outside of one," Nick hastily clarified.

Finnick clicked his tongue at Nick again, giving him a passing glance while he drove. "Ya know, yo' pretty bad news, Nick," he started. "Goin' 'round corruptin' wide-eyed bunnies that're too good for the tip of yo' tail. She's fuzz and the daughter of some old hicks that work for the municipal now, apparently. Quite the change of scenery."

"They're volunteering."

"Volunteerin'," Finnick drew out in condescension, mocking his own words back at him.

Nick's brow furrowed at his friend, registering the fennec's words finally. "I'm not going around corrupting anybody," he simply stated.

Looking over at Nick in quiet incredulity, one eyebrow cocked to a dramatic extent, Finnick gave him a toothy smile, the hard paper stick of the sucker sticking comically out of his sharp teeth. "Other way 'round, then?" He eased out.

Nick gave the fennec a skeptical look, internally debating what he should even say to that. "Something like that," he finally answered in a tone denoting distinct finality.

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen," Finnick shook his head, turning back to the road.

"You were telling me how the city has gone to hell," Nick continued after a long silence.

"I don't gotta say nothin', Nick. Look around you," Finnick said, waving his paw around him in the air. "These fools are throwin' away a perfectly good day. Half the damn businesses around their little powwows are closed because of them."

"How many do they have?"

Finnick shrugged. "Mayor's office, City Hall, one back there at the station, the one by the UPP buidlin' all but moved on, and one by the fuzz's hangout. I swear if these mammals put half as much effort into their everyday, we'da solved most the shit they're bitchin' 'bout."

"You do realize that Bellwether tried to eradicate us, right?" Nick shook his head as he turned his snout towards the passenger side window. "Like they do have a pretty good reason to be out here?"

"Do they?" Finnick shot back. "Last time I checked you and yo' cottontail put the bitch in the bighouse. Her and her friends have all been rolled up on already. Ain't nothin' to be up in arms about anymore, s'far as I can see."

"What about Rampyke?" Nick asked, turning back to his friends with a questioning glare.

Finnick's eyebrows rose up, though he did not turn to meet Nick's glare. "What about him?"

Tilting his head, Nick narrowed his eyes at the fennec. "You're not worried he was in on the whole thing?"

"What's it matter," he shrugged back. "I ain't seein' no city goons goin' 'round burnin' no buildin's down. What's he gonna do? Take the city to hell in a handbasket in the month and a half he's got in office?" Finnick shook his head, dropping his voice more decibels than thought possible for his already low voice, making him sound like he was gurgling gravel. "What a waste of goddamn time," he droned, giving the city around him a disapproving glance.

Nick clicked his own tongue at the fennec. "Your outlook on life makes mine look like the gospel, Fin."

"Long as I'm makin' money," he shrugged again. "I don't care."

Scoffing at his friend, Nick thought it as good a time as any to pop open the glove compartment to look for a protein bar or something. He still had a long day, and doing it all on an empty stomach, while perfectly doable, didn't strike him as a pleasant thought. "If only everyone else was as chilled out as you," he replied, shutting the compartment without any luck.

"Well, what the hell do they expect him to do?" Finnick shot back. "Go around dartin' mammals? Seems a bit old hat now, don't it?"

Nick looked back at his driver, giving him an incredibly incredulous look while pulling his lips up in disbelief. "Old hat?" He started. "Those prison cells aren't even _warm_ yet, Fin. You're acting like this all happened a month ago. Yesterday, we all believed preds were losing their minds over _nothing_ , and that we all could go in an instant."

"Yeah, well, they _weren't_ and we _ain't_ ," he offered with a sharp glare over to his passenger. "Seems it should be a huge sigh of relief, but apparently it's like mammals are more pissed off than when nobody knew jack."

"You're unbelievable," Nick breathed out. "What makes you so sure he's not going to do something stupid?"

"Who?"

"Rampyke!" He seethed out. "Who the hell do you _think_ I meant?"

Finnick let out an amused breath. "Nick," he started with a toothy smile. "You got two vuples in yo' name, and you're _still_ half the fox I am. Make use 'a those big ears of yo's, and have a listen." The fennec punched a knob on the radio and turned a dial for the volume. In an instant, the incredibly expensive speakers let out a low hiss until it focused on the audio.

" _-listening to ninety-five point three, KLZR. The ZNN News Hour is next,"_ a soundbite played of the speakers before a musical interlude played.

"What am I listening to?" Nick questioned.

"Yo," Finnick shot at him. "You want to have half a second's patience and find out, or has that rabbit rubbed off on you in more ways than one? It's almost four, and the big mammal himself is supposed to be on air."

Nick was about to reply when a voice came over the speakers again. _"Hello, and welcome to the ZNN News Hour. I'm your host, Ryan Buckley, and joining me today is Zootopia's new interim mayor, Adrian Rampyke. How are you doing today, Mr. Rampyke?"_

 _"I'm doing good,"_ a gruff voice that Nick was familiar with spoke out. He had listened to a number of speeches the ram had made while campaigning in Savannah Central; the old politician worked hard for the predator vote outside of subsidized housing blocks and various other places. _"How about you?"_

 _"I'm doing just fine, Mr. Mayor,"_ the host chirped back. _"Now, I think we should get right into business here-"_

 _"As we should."_

 _"Right. Do you have anything you want to say before we get started?"_

 _"I just hope that the citizens of Zootopia will help me in facilitating a peaceful transition of office. Lord knows we have had enough uncertainty for the past couple months."_

 _"Yes,"_ the interviewer started softly. _"But that seems to be the forefront of the issue with you taking office, if you don't mind me saying. Uncertainty, that is."_

 _"I don't mind at all. Look, I know this city has its reservations about me following the revelations of the former mayor's office, but I am no friend of Dawn's. We have consistently fought against each other on every bill that matters for more than a decade now."_

 _"I'm not sure your track record is the issue here, unfortunately. I think most mammals just want to know what's going on. With the bombshell press-conference yesterday and your almost immediate appointment to mayor, I think the city is just in a bit of shock right now. I think the fact that you weren't in the leaked emails-"_

 _"I wasn't in any of the_ conspiracy _emails,"_ Rampyke butted in.

 _"What was that?"_

 _"I said I wasn't in any of the email chains or conversations that involve Dawn's despicable actions; I just wanted to correct you there,"_ he began. _"As City Manager, I am actually featured in a large amount of emails that were leaked discussing matters of the municipality. But, and this is important, every member of the plot that we know of has been apprehended. If I was in any way knowledgable about the events taking place, I would be in a cell right next to Dawn, but I'm not. The ZPD has been working tirelessly throughout the night to dish out hard justice, and they are doing a fantastic job about it."_

 _"What do you say to all of the mammals that would like to see you step down?"_

 _"The simple truth, Ryan, is that I am nothing more than an_ interim _mayor. What remains of the UPP is in no position to hold elected office at this moment, and I have been asked by the City Council to act as the interim mayor as I am the most qualified."_

 _"Why do you think you are the most qualified?"_ The interviewer asked in a leading tone _._

 _"Simply put, it's because I have been working as the defacto mayor since Lionheart left office. Bellwether was acting in an official capacity as more of a mediator between the bipartisan council and the rest of the bureaucracy, as she has spent a large amount of time in the past month campaigning for the November election. I was really the one to handle implementation of the safety instructions handed down from City Hall. I led the curfew orders on both predators_ and _prey, I was working closely with city officials in the maintaining peace during any demonstrations, and it was my office that set up the so-called 'savage hotline'. I have had my hooves in the dirt of this city's strife since it began, and I'm going to make sure I continue doing my job, and doing my job well, until my time runs out."_

 _"Mhmm. Tell me, Mr. Mayor, do you see this as the end of the UPP?"_

Rampyke chuckled, his grizzled voice reverberating off of the dead sound of the radio station. _"No, I do not,"_ he started. _"It's pretty common knowledge that the UPP has had a checkered past. Many mammals can actually still remember the foundation of our party during the prohibition period. It may not have been known back then, but many people have come to know that the first mayor of our party, Marilyn Swinton, campaigned for the continuation of the prohibition of alcohol, despite bipartisan opposition to the idea at the time, to keep the profits flowing into the mob. It was not until Gregor Romanov did the leaders of the party purge any mammals affiliated with the mob. That is what I see these unfortunate circumstances as. A purge of all the mammals that would see the health, safety, prosperity, and_ peace _of our great city-"_

Finnick cut the rest of the new interim mayor's speech off at the knees, punching the dial to shut the radio off. He turned to the red fox next to him before he spoke. "Did ya catch that," he said, cocking an eyebrow.

"What was I supposed to catch?" Nick questioned giving the fennec a narrow look.

"Come on, Nick," he replied as she shook his head, turning back to the road. "That rabbit has only been in yo' life for a couple days in total. Yo' slicker than oil, and sharper than a blade, my mammal. You a fox, after all. Put the pieces together."

Nick stared blankly at the fennec, trying to piece together what he was getting at. _You're a fox, after all_ , he reminded himself. _Put it together_. Nick watched the storm rage on out the window, losing himself in thought. First thing's first, where's the money going? Well, it's not going anywhere. There's no money in this. Okay, who's to gain? Obviously Rampyke, as he's the new mayor, but what's the end goal? Darting mammals isn't going to work anymore, as Finnick pointed out, so what does he want? The downfall of his party?

Nick tried a different angle, and thought about the data packets being dumped online. Who gained from those? It was hard to say, really. Possibly the UPP's opposition, maybe the an enemy of Bellwether's, but justice was certainly winning out over it all. With the packets online, it seemed a number of officials were put behind bars. Which stood to question: why did the mammal who had this information wait until after the plot was foiled to release it? Obviously something other than justice was on the agenda, but Nick could not think of what.

'That is what I see these unfortunate circumstances as: a purge,' Rampyke's words ran through his head. The wording struck him as odd, to be sure, but nothing incriminating. It also seemed odd that Rampyke went out of his way to declare the fact that he was in the data packets, just not as anything more than the official capacity of his office. One would think a politician would feel better leaving the fact that they were in the packets at all, wanting to be as far away from the scandal as possible.

"I was over at Henry's," Finnick started boredly. "Down by Walnut. I was there when you called me around noon, because I was lookin' through some of the leaked shit. Did you know that not a single member of the City Council is in the packets?" he asked, looking over at Nick with lidded eyes, rolling the sucker around his maw with his tongue. "Seems kinda strange, don't it? Within hours of the ol' bitch's arrest, they've got the prodigal son lined up for the job like he was next in line for the crown."

Nick tipped the sunglasses he wore down his muzzle so he could look directly at the fennec fox. "I see what you're saying," he began softly, narrowing his eyes. "But I fail to see how this is supposed to sate my concern for him being mayor."

"Weren't you listenin', Nick?" He asked with a toothy smile. "A purge of all the mammals that would see the health, safety, prosperity, and peace of our great city-" he mimicked, placing his clawed paw over his heart in mock patriotism before waving his paw through the air dismissively. "Yadda, yadda, yadda." Finnick took the sucker out of his mouth and dropped it into an empty coffee cup sat in the drink holder, having finished with the nicotine layer a long time ago. "Biggest tell I've heard all damn day. If politicians keep givin' away their intentions so easily, I might think of runnin' myself. I could talk my way around a whole herd of these fool. Call me a sheep-dog, Nick, because the only circles these woolly bastards are runnin' is 'round themselves."

Nick scoffed at the smaller mammal's boastering. "You have yet to explain why him being in office is nothing to be concerned about."

"I've got three words for you, Red," Finnick shot, pointing two clawed fingers in his direction. "It's 'self-interest' and 'blackmail'. The dude is a fanatic. Not in the pred/prey sense, though I ain't so sure about that, but in his stupid-ass politics. He's probably been hoardin' shit for years now, waiting to drop it at a time he could capitalize. If he gave a shit about predators, he would have released it all awhile ago. He did not. If he gave a shit about prey, he would have kept his flat-toothed jaw closed. He did not. Tells me the only thing he's interested in is his own personal politics." Finnick glanced over to Nick with a smug expression. "You can trust a mammal that only cares about himself. There ain't a question about his motive."

"Where does the blackmail come in," Nick inquired, already knowing where Finnick was going with in.

"Either elect him mayor," he eased calmly, gesturing slowly with his free paw. "Or he'd dump their dirty laundry out with all the rest."

"You think they're in on it?"

"City Council?" Finnick shot an eyebrow up when he looked over to Nick, lounging back into his elevated seat extension. "Nah. They're mostly Lionheart's cronies and Mammal's Voice. Not a UPP chump among them."

Nick wondered if the fennec was _actually_ onto something, or if he was just fabricating some elaborate conspiracy theory in his free time for fun. Difficult to tell the difference, most times. "So what's the dirty laundry?"

Finnick gave Nick a dark chuckle, narrowing his eyes at the red fox for a moment before turning his attention back to the road. "They're government mammals, Nick," he reminded him calmly. "I told you I had a look at all of them leaked documents. Rampyke's guys must be good, because they had some pictures I'd say _we_ could have taken. Ain't nothin' but kit's play to get some dirt on a politician. Remember what he did with McCreedy?"

Not replying to that, Nick settled into silence. It seemed funny to him that despite the little fox's aversion to caring even slightly about politics and its inner workings, he made a point of being knowledgeable about it all. Nick harbored no such sentiment. It was a wonder to him why he even seemed to care in the first place, as the comings and goings of mayors never seemed to make itself relevant to Nick. _Maybe it's all that time I've spent with Carrots_ , he wondered. _I bet she'd be pretty upset if it turned out Finnick is right_.

Nick glanced behind him and picked up his pear green shirt. It was a mess; it had been completely covered in dirt and spots of mud from when he scrambled up that hill, not even mentioning the beating it got during the investigation the day before. Nick let out a shaking sigh. _The day before_ , he repeated in his head. _It feels like it was months ago_. He stuck his snout onto the fabric and inhaled deeply, catching every whiff of Judy's scent that he could.

He had closed his eyes to focus on the task, but opened them when he felt something drop into his lap. It was the business card that he got from Judy's sister. Nick picked it up and turned it around so he could look at the back, rereading the information he had already checked out at the train station's payphone. He hadn't gotten much. "That reminds me," Nick started in a whisper. He glanced up to look at Finnick and saw he was giving him a strange look, his eyes narrowed at the red fox intently. "I need you to stop by Henry's on our way to the lot. I need to check something out."

"Sure thing, Nick," the fennec replied hesitantly, still staring at him with a skeptical expression. "Whatever you say."

Nick turned to look back out the window. They had passed into an area of Savannah Central that saw little attention. The asphalt and cement was cracked in disrepair. Pools of water grew as the rain continued to pour down, and tall grass and weeds grew out of every available opening, sticking out above the flowing water or out of broken rock. It was like the neighborhood was being given to nature, and it had slowly begun taking it back. Vines reached tall on every brick or cement wall. The trees grew into power lines, threatening to tear them apart. Large patches that once belonged to trimmed grass and sculpted plants now completely reclaimed by nature.

The entire southwest side had started to look like this some years ago. All of the money went into building the city's financial district, and the hundreds of square miles of suburbs. Nothing ever came to this part of town anymore. They only left. That was painfully obvious by the staggering amount of seemingly abandoned buildings littering the area. Not worth doing anything with, too expensive to tear down, and frankly the people that owned the property didn't even want to think about them these days.

The storm beat down on the city as they drove through it in silence, Nick having buried himself in thought. He was thinking over the past couple days. It just didn't seem to sit with him, the fact that the day before had been just that, the day before. So much had happened in so little time that it was surreal. Was he really a retired mammal, or had he made another rash, in-the-moment decision like filling out that police academy application? No, this time it was real, and _painfully_ thought out.

One thing didn't escape his mind, though. A question that he had been meaning to ask since Judy had found him under that bridge. A question whose answer was the difference between some freak act of nature, and something deeper. "Hey, Finnick," he asked in an unusually somber tone.

Finnick's ears perked up at Nick's tone and he cocked an eyebrow in his direction. "Yeah?"

"Why did you tell her where I was?" Nick spoke purposefully, taking off his glasses completely so he could look at Finnick.

He observed his passenger blankly, giving no emotions away. After a moment he turned from Nick and continued focusing on the road. "That's easy," he began. "You've been messed up since she left, Nick. I'm talkin' _real_ messed up. She fried yo' damn brain good, and you've been sulkin' 'round for the better part of two months now."

"So you just wanted me to snap out of it?" Nick wondered out loud.

Finnick gave him a sympathetic look, shrugging his shoulders lazily. "You want to know why I told her where to find you?" He asked slowly. "It's got somethin' to do with the fact that you currently reek of rabbit, covered in rabbit fur, and just spent five seconds stuffing your nose into a rabbit scent soaked shirt." The fennec scoffed loudly at him. "Yo' bad news, Nick, but that rabbit of yo's? She knocked you on yo' ass so hard you _still_ haven't gotten up."

Nick sighed heavily, tossing his sunglasses onto the dash haphazardly and running his paws over his face. "Oh, Finnick," he said, shaking his head in defeat. "You don't know the half of it."


	9. I have a debt to pay

_4:31 pm, September 14th_

* * *

The quiet hum of the news radio station played over the small storefront. Simple cubicles of different sizes spread out around the first floor of the building, and the whirring of three dozen computers filled the air with an electrical scent, making Nick's nostrils flare every couple of seconds. He did not like Henry's; the old internet café was worn down, and the electronics all stunk of tobacco and musk. If he had his way, Nick would never come into this place again. The floors were dirty, the owner was a piece of work, and the lingering scent of a thousand different predators wafted off of every seat and keyboard.

Nick huffed out a breath, adjusting his tie inside a cubicle fit for his size, and returned to tapping away on a keyboard that he had wiped down before using. He had spent almost fifteen minutes searching through business registration sites, looking for any information on the illusive "VegPen Inc". It was starting to look like they had up and vanished into thin air. The only information to be gleaned from this was that they were only in production for three months, and only shipped products to half a dozen stores. Combining that with the ridiculous pricing for simple stuff and the fact that the parent company was set up outside the country, he was beginning to suspect it was more of a tax dodge than a company.

 _So much for buying her a new one_ , he thought, querying a registration site for affiliated addresses. Nick scrolled through the search results, finding nothing but Post Office boxes and supposed addresses belonging to the president and vice president, which, at least in Nick's mind, probably led you to the back entrance of a fish store. Trying a different angle, he looked through picture results that came with the company's name. Much to his disappointment, he came across nothing but advertising slogans and pictures of the logo.

He was about to give up when he saw a picture of two mammals standing outside a factory building. A female deer with a graying snout and a beaver in a hard hat stood side by side looking at the camera with large smiles; behind them was an old brick factory building that Nick had seen before. The link brought him to an article about the company, but Nick only skimmed the headline before looking at the caption of the picture. _'Taken by Hugh Murday outside of VegPen Inc.'s production facility at 5780W Sousten St,'_ was typed out neatly in faded font underneath the photo.

 _Finally_ , he thought bitterly, closing all of his tabs and pushing off of the desk. _I hate looking for stuff online. It's like looking for a specific grain of sand in Sahara Square_. Nick was walking towards the front door, writing the address into the pad of his paw with the pen he always kept on him, when a disappointingly familiar voice called after him. "Is that Nick Wilde I see?" An old stoat shouted across the café in a hearty laugh.

"Afraid not, Henry," Nick turned, putting on the most sincere smile he could muster. "You must have me confused with another fox."

"'Nother fox that dresses like _that_?" Henry gestured while shaking his head, sticking his paw out towards Nick. "Impossible."

Nick took his paw and shook it, still giving the stoat a lazy smile. "Now, come on. Plenty of mammals share my sense of style."

"Or lack thereof," the stoat said. "I know you red foxes bred yourselves out of proper camouflage, but you don't have to make it worse."

"I've seen stoats redder than me, Henry," Nick retorted. "Besides, the best camouflage is one you can't see, right? I guarantee you nobody can point me out in a lineup if I met them wearing one of these."

"They wouldn't have to remember your ugly mug, Wilde," he chuckled. "They'd just point at the damn shirt. I ain't never seen you in nothin' normal."

"That is correct," Nick drawled out after running through the stoat's several negative long sentence, trying to determine if he was saying he has or hasn't seen him in a normal shirt. "But that's why I don't get pulled into lineups that I don't see coming."

"You act like it's a choice," Henry puffed. "They send the paddy wagon out to fill a quota sometimes, and I remember being pulled into a lineup for no other reason than being a brown and weasel sized."

Nick scoffed at the stoat, his lazy smile pulling into amusement. "And how often do they have foxes in a lineup?"

"Not as much as they should, you scoundrel," he let out a jovial breath of air. "I just caught you usin' up all my bandwidth without buying a damn cup of coffee."

The red fox shrugged lightly, adjusting his sunglasses over his snout. "I'm in a hurry, Henry. I'll have to buy two next time."

"You better, but if you don't mind me saying, today is a two-cups-of-coffee kind of day."

"Is it bad over here?"

"Whole group of them rolled through here a couple hours ago," Henry gestured outside the café to the storm still raging in the streets. "Marchin' through the street like it's a damn parade. It's bad enough I've got to worry about the bears out back, now I have to worry about some jumped-up _'freedom fighters'_ smashing my windows and makin' away with all my machines."

"Bears, huh?" Nick questioned, his eyebrows raising above his sunglasses. He glanced towards the back door of the café over the stoat's shoulder, flaring his nostrils to catch the scents coming from behind the door. "Big running some stuff out back today?" He questioned, picking up the faint smell of polar bears.

Henry cocked an eyebrow at the fox, shifting his stance defensively. "Now, why would I tell you that, Nick?" He breathed. "Word around town is you've traded pawpsicles for pawcuffs. I would have thought being an ice cream vendor was as far down as the illustrious Nick Wilde would go, but apparently bunny is just below that."

Nick looked down at the stoat, his expression unreadable behind his dark glasses. "Word around town, huh?" He calmly probed.

"Tongues move fast around these parts, fox," he replied. "Mammals have been saying some things about you for months now; ever since you got your tail handed to you by a bunny in a meter maid outfit."

Scoffing, the fox glanced back over the stoat's shoulder, watching the back door intently, instincts developed through some time running from the bears kicking in. "Yeah, well, that's just how it goes," Nick easily retorted. "Life rolls up on you when you least expect it."

"Huh," the stoat shot back, looking Nick up and down, sizing him up. "Tell me, Nick my friend," Henry started, a unique edge settling into his voice. "Was it the outfit that shot some light into your eyes, or was it the thing _under_ the outfit?"

Nick looked down at the smaller mammal. "Excuse me?"

"I'm not one to judge," he defended, putting his paws up in surrender. "If you're followin' her cotton tail around at the sway, that's your business, not mine"

The fox gaped at the small predator, his jaw dropping away enough that his lips threatened to be pulled apart. "Why does everybody keep saying that?" He growled. "Have I ever given you guys that impression?"

Henry chuckled at the red fox in front of him, narrowing his eyes in a mixture of mockery and incredulity. "Word of advice, Nick," he said, tilting his head to the side. "Bears have the greatest sense of smell out of any animal on this planet. Raymond is out back," he hooked a thumb to the back door, "and he told me to come up here and talk to Nick Wilde _and_ his rabbit. I thought for a second you were here with her, but now that I'm up close, I can see that we were wrong. If it's strong enough to trick Raymond into thinking she's actually _here_ , Nick, then you might want to think about a shower."

Nick glanced out the glass door that led back out into the city in thought. "I swear," he grumbled under his breath, not talking to anyone in particular. "Pred noses have been nothing but a thorn in my side since the day I was born. When do these damn things start working for me?"

"Prey world," he chirped. "Would that we could still use these things for something useful, but it turns out all we can do is insult mammals for the smell of their day."

Nick hummed at that, turning back to face the café's owner. "Big's bears seem to get their money's worth."

"Sure do," Henry agreed, nodding his head. "You never did tell me how you managed to evade a pack of animals that can smell you from across the city for nearly three months."

"It's a game of cat and mouse, Henry," Nick shrugged. "Or bear and fox if you want to be more accurate. That's all the life is, these days. Run a little bit, wait for it to catch up to you, and run a little more."

"Sounds a bit downtrodden for the wild Wilde, himself," Henry spoke, tilting his snout into the air so he could look down at Nick as he crossed his arms. "That rabbit teach you to sit and roll over, too?"

Nick's eyes turned hard underneath his shades, though the stoat would see nothing but a blank stare. "I'll see you later, Henry," he finally replied as he turned to leave.

"I hope you mean that as a threat, Nick," the stoat called after him, not moving from his spot. "Can't two-time the one-time. You'd be makin' enemies of us all."

As Nick opened the glass door, the noise of the rain pelting the pavement filled his ears, the dull sound magnifying in intensity at the slightest crack of the door. "You're acting like I'm wearing a badge and a gun," he shot over his shoulder.

"You kinda are," the stoat mumbled, causing Nick to stop in his tracks and turn slightly. "Just happens to come in the form of cologne."

Nick bared his teeth this time, flashing the smaller predator a row of sharp point that would put his entire maw to shame. "Don't work yourself to death," he said plainly, hooking his thumb up to the ceiling of the shop. "And put the gate down on a day like this. You're not hurting for business."

"Hurtin' for something interesting to happen for once, though," he shouted after Nick as the door was closing. "Thanks for supplying it, _fluff-chaser_."

Bared claws stopped the door in its tracks, ripping it open again so the fox could look at the owner. "Bite me," he seethed.

"And get close enough to get the smell of rabbit on me?" Henry said, cocking an eyebrow. "No thanks."

Nick slammed the glass door, the hydraulic doorstop hissing in protest to the forceful action. He turned swiftly in the rain, stomping down towards the running van parked by the sidewalk; the cold water and wind slammed into him, blowing his bright Hawaiian shirt around his waist and flapping his tie about. Slowing his pace so he could make sure to sheath his claws before opening the passenger door, Nick snapped his jaw a couple times before forcing an easy smile behind his dark shades.

"What the hell was that about?" Finnick barked as his fiend plopped down into his seat with an exaggerated huff.

"I don't think I'll be coming back here," Nick calmly remarked, shutting his door firmly. "Seems we've grown apart, me and ol' Henry," he lamented dramatically. "Such a shame."

"Yo!" Finnick nearly screamed, making Nick glance over to the fennec with raised eyebrows. "What is yo' dumbass _doin'_? Yo' talkin' shit to Henry, now? You realize that weasel-lookin' creep is a goddamn capo, right?"

Nick offered no such reaction warranted by the fennec's raised voice. "He started it," Nick stated.

"He started it?" Finnick balked, tilting his large sunglasses down his muzzle to look at Nick. "I'm sorry, What?" He took his shades off completely, tossing them into the back of the van haphazardly. "Can you explain to me what you did with the fox that stole the goddamn door off of my van? Where'd he go, Nick?" He seethed, pulling the van back onto the road. "First, you snapped at me sayin' how it was. Now yo' blowin' up at capos that are talkin' smack? Are you a fox or a howlin'-at-the-moon wolf?" Finnick barked as he shot down the road through the rain. "Don't tell me…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "Don't tell me that he was talkin' trash about the rabbit. Do not tell me that yo' breakin' yo' cardinal goddamn rule over her cotton tail."

"Finnick…" Nick soothed as he looked around at every spot in the van that wasn't occupied by the fennec.

"Don't 'Finnick' me, Slick," he howled, his eyes growing darker as his brow knitted itself into a permanent scowl. "Tell me what's the haps," Finnick pleaded with a distinct edge to his voice. "You ain't gonna talk your way out of this. I already watched you mope for two months, and now it's like yo' a completely different mammal now that she's ran straight through you."

Nick didn't respond for some time, instead simply staring out at the street with a blank expression. _Rip the band-aid, Nick_ , he thought. _It's not going to get any better the more you drag this out_. He sighed dramatically, pulling his own sunglasses off of his features and tossing them onto the dash. "I'm retiring, Fin," he spoke firmly, turning to his friend.

Finnick shot him the hardest glare yet, taking quick glances back to the road to make sure he didn't careen off of it. "I knew it," he seethed under his breath, his jaw hanging loosely in disbelief. "You are out yo' goddamn mind."

Shaking his head, Nick continued, "It's more than that," he eased, preparing himself for the worst reaction possible. "I'm a police informant."

A deathly silence fell onto the van, the only noise being the metallic whirring of the engine and the heavy pelting of the rain. "What want to run that by me again?" The fennec spoke calmly, not looking at the red fox.

"I work for the cops, now," Nick reiterated. "It's not blackmail or a game this time. I'm on the city's payroll."

Finnick looked at his passenger with an unreadable expression. "That's not funny, Nick."

"It's not a joke."

The van settled into an uncomfortable understanding as he tried to shake himself out of the shock of what had been said. Finnick did not say anything for some time, and just sat there in a thoughtful trance, conscious of the surroundings only in his habitual movements of driving. "Since when?" He whispered into the still air.

Nick stared at his friend sympathetically. He would not want something like this to be dropped on him any more than Finnick did, and that's when you're talking about two mammals that pride themselves on never hitting a wall they didn't see coming. "Technically, not until a couple days," he replied, opting to have Finnick in the know about the whole nine yards, not just the fake story given to the press. "They're going to make it look like I have been one for two months, though. Since the Missing Mammal's case."

"They're going to fudge it?" Finnick turned to look at Nick, the symptoms of shock steadily giving way to irritation and aggressive posturing once again. "Why?"

"Politics," Nick shrugged, waving his paw out in front of them. "They want to have a solid case on the ewe, and the chief of police himself is personally heading up my fake instatement to the CI program. He's dating it all and throwing it in records to be "found" like it was a paperwork issue."

Finnick shook his head, watching the road with distant eyes."What's in it for you?" He said. "I know you wouldn't be doing it for the money."

' _In it for me'_ , Nick repeated in his mind. _Is there anything for me?_ There was that empty threat from Bogo, though Nick was sure that both of them knew nothing was going to "stick", so it was a matter of there being no real consequences for him personally if he was to say no. "For me?" He wondered out loud. "Nothing, really."

The fennec scoffed loudly, causing Nick to glance over at him expectantly. "Then tell those fools where they can shove it, Nick," he growled. "What are you waitin' fo'?"

 _There's the issue of my involvement being less than strictly legal_ , he kept to himself. _Plus the_ other _reason_. "Bellwether could go free, Finnick," Nick sidestepped. "This is bigger than me."

" _Bigger than you?_ " The driver gawked, running a paw over his head to smooth down his ears in bewilderment. "What are you talkin' 'bout? Are you sayin' that you've gone _blue_ on me, Nick?"

 _There's really no way around this, is there?_ Nick thought. _I'm never going to here the end of this._ He let out a long breath through his snout in preparation, collecting his thoughts to be the most coherent he could possibly be to avoid any more 'misinterpretations'. "Finnick," he drawled out in a low tone. "What I am about to tell you might set you off, so I would really like you to promise me that you will at least _try_ to remain calm about it."

The fennec's eyes narrowed as he continued to watch the road. "Now how is _that_ supposed to make me feel? How am I supposed to 'remain calm' when yo' droppin' shit like this on me."

"Finnick."

"I ain't makin' no promises, fool," the fennec barked over to his passenger. "I will blow up if yo' stupid-ass has done some stupid shit. I ain't gonna 'remain calm' 'bout nothin'."

"Alright," Nick surrendered, raising his paws into the air. "Can't say I didn't warn you," he whispered, watching Finnick intently. The red fox remained silent for several seconds, drawing out the suspense in the air. When he finally spoke, it was in a careful tone. "It's because of Carrots-"

The van surged as the breaks protested; Nick was flung into the dash, smashing into the plastic as he wasn't wearing his seatbelt. As the van came to a complete stop, Nick was flung backwards at the sudden halt of momentum, propelling him into the seat. "Get the hell out of my van," the fennec deadpanned, unbuckling his seatbelt.

Nick rubbed the side of his head that smacked against the dash, staring at Finnick incredulously. "Fin, what the hell are you-"

" _We_ are gonna have a little _talk_ , Nick," he swiveled on his booster seat, bearing all of his teeth in Nick's direction. "And I'd really _appreciate_ it if you joined me _outside the damn van_."

The fennec clicked his tongue off of his sharp teeth and popped his door open, hopping down into the water flowing on the street. He slammed his door and sauntered over to the front of the van, his black shirt with an asymmetrical vertical red stripe and khaki shorts drenching in a matter of seconds. Finnick glared back into the van, the headlights illuminating his sandy face and amber eyes as he stared daggers into the fox that remained in the passenger seat.

Nick slowly opened his own door, jumping into the rain. He carefully made his way around to the front of the vehicle like he was walking through a minefield, or approaching a mammal infected with rabies. "Is there a reason we're doing this in the rain," he muttered to his smaller friend.

"It's 'cause I have a feeling I'm 'bout to rip the damn upholstery apart," the fennec replied darkly, his narrow eyes tracing Nick's movement around the vehicle. "I'm gettin' a little antsy."

"Alright, Finnick," Nick sighed, scrunching up his shoulders in defeat. He gestured towards the little predator with his paw, his tail shifting uncomfortably behind him. "Lay it on me."

"Lay it on you?" He balked. " _Lay it on you?_ Okay. Okay, yeah," Finnick nodded his head dramatically, pacing around the front of the van waving his paw about. "I can do that. Sure."

"Now, Finnick," Nick said tentatively, angling his snout towards the ground. "I did warn you."

"Warn me that I wouldn't like what you had to say, yeah," Finnick barked up at the soaked red fox, his profile illuminated in the dreary light of the storm by the headlights. "But _this_?" He clamored, gesturing with both of his paws at the fox in front of him. "No, no, no, _no_. No, this goes far and beyond me not likin' what you have to say. This is me genuinely worried that you have lost yo' goddamn mind."

"What choice do I have, Fin?" Nick questioned as he walked out away from the van, throwing both of his paws into the air. "If I don't do what they say, she could get in serious trouble for how we handled that investigation. She could lose her _job_."

"Then let her lose her job!" Finnick screamed out at Nick's back. " _She_ was the cop, and _she_ was the one that did all of that shit on her own account. Not one mammal on this planet forced her to do jack, Nick," he stomped his hind paw into the running water, sending a splash in all directions. "Let her deal with the consequences."

"It's her life's dream," Nick replied, turning to look at the fennec assuredly. "I'm not going to be the one to ruin it."

"Yo' not!" Finnick was practically standing on his toes, trying his hardest to get his point through to Nick. "She is!" He seethed, pointing an accusatory paw out behind them towards nothing in particular. "She's the one that broke the rules, and yo' red ass was there for nothin' but support."

"That's the point, Fin," he eased back at the fennec fox. "Don't you see that? I could have told her to use a different angle every single step of the way, but I'm so used to doing things on my own the easy way, I didn't think to tell her to do it _right_."

"Don't turn this around on yo'self," he bristled. " _You_ ain't got nothin' to do with her. She put you up in black, Nick. She forced you to help."

"I am _not_ going to do that to her," Nick barked, baring his fangs at the smaller fox. "She's my friend, and I am going to see this thing _all_ the way through."

"I can't believe this," Finnick murmured, smoothing his ears down with his paw and turning away from Nick. "I cannot believe this."

"Can't believe what, Fin?" He scoffed. "That I'm trying to do good for once in my hateful existence?"

Finnick snapped around, his eyes sharpened into fine points of focus as he stared down the fox several times his size. "That yo' throwin' yo' life away for a _fuckin' rabbit_!" He bellowed, the wild flailing of his arms sending his whole body into motion.

"What life?" Nick cried in exasperation. "Huh? _What life?_ " He matched Finnick's hard glare for everything that it had, throwing his paws up into the air and waving to the city around him, the rain still falling. "Are you talking about the life where I'm homeless on the street, scamming mammals out of _pocket change_ just to keep myself _afloat_?" He barked, his eyebrows shooting as high as they could go.

"Are you talking about the life where I spent _three months_ running, eating _scraps out of the garbage_ so Big's bears couldn't _rip me into little pieces_? Are you talking about the life where I'm out here every single day making the world a _worse_ place for everyone?" Nick couldn't look at Finnick's spiteful expression any more and turn away from him, walking towards the van. "What am I throwing away, Finnick?" His voice came out in a hoarse whisper, pleading with the small fox. "Please- _please_ tell me. What am I throwing away?" He murmured under an exhausted sigh, leaning his back heavily into the grill of the van.

"Yo' unbelievable," the Finnick gawked. "What happened to 'I'm the freest cat on the block'? What happened to 'I ain't got nothin' holdin' me down'? What happened to 'being the last mammal standin'? What the hell happened to 'I'm the last piece of wild that they can't tame'?"

"She tamed me!" Nick roared out into the deserted street, catching the fennec by surprise. "Alright?" He said defeatedly, looking up at his small friend, his hollow facade of contentedness falling completely away, revealing just how _tired_ he felt. Nick sunk into the grill, sliding against the chrome bumper and causing a small splash when he landed onto the street. "She makes me want to be better," he calmly continued as he shook his head, running his paw over his ears. "I've been doing this for so long, Fin. If I don't stop this now, if I don't at least try, I'm going to die in the gutter after a lifetime of just... Making it all worse."

Finnick stared at his friend slouched against the grill of his van, an expression he had never seen before stopping his rage in its tracks. "You once told me that dyin' in the gutter would be an honor if you could do it a free mammal," he asserted uncertainly.

"Free from what?" Nick asked, looking up at the Finnick again knowing he didn't have the answer. "Something to lose?" The fennec just looked on blankly, offering no help. "I forgot what if felt like to have something that you're scared of losing. After Mom, I just… I didn't know what to do with myself," he lamented, melting into the chrome bumper. "Before she was gone, though… I remember how _good_ it felt to have someone in your life like that. And these twenty years have been so long… So long."

"Yo' runnin' out because yo' _lonely_?" Finnick grumbled under his breath, his exasperated expression returning to him. "Nick… She's a _rabbit_."

Nick glanced up to his friend wearily, his exhausted eyes seeing, but not really perceiving, the fox in front of him. He looked back down at his hind paws before he spoke again. "She's also the only mammal that has _ever_ believed in me since Mom passed," Nick murmured. "Even after everything I said to her…"

The rain fell ceaselessly onto the pair of predators silhouetted by the halogen headlamps of the van, their forms remaining a constant in the storm of movement brought on by the downfall. The wind began howling through the narrow street as the storm picked up strength, making the smaller fox peer down the street away from the defeated figure that was staring at his hind paws in thought. Finnick smoothed his ears flat against his skull one more time with his paw, letting out a long breath through his snout.

"Get in the van," he said dejectedly, strolling over to the crumpled mass that called itself a fox. Nick looked up at the fennec hopefully, reeling back slightly when two small clawed paws grabbed the collar of his blood red and sky blue shirt, hoisting him up with surprising strength. He put a paw against the hood of the car to brace the movement, so that he could lift himself the rest of the way without the forceful suggesting of the fennec.

Finnick snorted at the red fox, turning on his heels to make his way to the driver's side. Nick followed suit, sauntering his way over to the passenger side and opening the door. They settled back into the unmoving van, the windshield wipers' screeching every couple arcs across the glass filling the compartment with an uneasy silence. "There's a couple towels in the back," Finnick breathed, leaning into the steering wheel and peering out into the road distantly. "I don't want the damn seats to get ruined, too."

Nick nodded, knowing that Finnick wouldn't care if he did or not. Hoisting himself back over the front seats, he made his way to a fishnet hamper that hung on the inside of the back door, filled with all manors of scrap cloth and clothes. Pulling out two sufficiently absorbent pieces of material, Nick lobbed them over the top of the driver's side, landing on the console between the two seats. He didn't move from his spot as he watched Finnick's small paw reach over into his vision and take one of the pieces of material lethargically, and listened to the ruffling of him wildly attempting to dry the fur on his head and ears quickly.

Another small paw reached out for the other piece of material, and Nick watched the fennec lean over the center console to the passenger side, smoothing out the towel so it covered the entire seat. He walked slowly back up the the front of the van, awkwardly climbing over the barrier between the front seats and the rear compartment so he could sit back down. As he came over the barrier, Nick saw Finnick with both of his arms crossed over the top of the steering wheel, his long muzzle resting over his forearms as he watched the storm rage with a lidded, expressionless face.

"Can you even do it, Nick," he began softly, turning slightly so he could look at the red fox out of the corner of his vision. "You said so yo'self. You've been goin' in every direction that ain't the straight and narrow for a long time."

Nick huffed out an amused breath through his snout. What about the fennec's words amused him, he couldn't know. Maybe it was the absurdity of it all. The end to something that was supposed to last forever. When he first met Judy, he felt more like an immovable object meeting an unstoppable force. Drenched and sitting on a towel in Finnick's van, he didn't quite feel so immovable anymore. More like a washed-out hustler. "I want to try," he smiled tiredly at the fennec.

"You want to try," he repeated back coldly.

Finnick clicked his tongue off his teeth, slumping back into his seat properly so he could reattach his seatbelt. Nick followed his lead, not wanting to get slammed into the dash again. When the fennec pulled the van back into motion the thoughtful silence permeated throughout the van once again, only broken by the sounds of the storm and the mechanisms of the vehicle lurching underneath the pair. It was no longer an uncomfortable silence, though Nick held reservations about the fennec's ability to deal with the information that he had just given him. He had been struggling with it himself for some time now, and had just recently come to his final convictions on the matter.

"What are you gonna do, now?" Finnick dryly commented. "You gonna rat for the fuzz full-time?"

"No," Nick replied harshly. "I'm not a rat. The only reason they are going to have me on the books as an informant is for this case. I'm done with this life, Fin. Any form of it."

Finnick glanced over to the red fox next to him with a dubious expression. "So what are you gonna do?" He prodded.

Nick tore his vision from the driver and looked out his own window, his contented mask reforming more and more as the seconds dragged on. "I can't afford to think about that right now," he finally said. "I have to get out of this mess first."

"What do you mean?"

The red fox turned back towards the driver with a fully repaired facade, smiling lazily at him and prompting the smaller predator's own expression to lose all character besides indifferent irritation. "How's things with Big going for you?"

"Huh?" The question caught Finnick off guard to some extent, though he offered no physical reaction besides his brow furrowing an almost unnoticeable degree. "Fine, I guess. Nothin' to complain about."

"Good," Nick nodded, retrieving his sunglasses from the dash and sliding them over his muzzle. "I need you to do me one more favor."

Tilting his muzzle higher into the air, he cocked his head slightly to the side, his oversized ears leaning further back behind him. "And what's that, Nick?"

"I need you to tell Big," he replied.

Finnick turned his whole head to look at Nick, his irritation giving way to apprehension. "Tell Big _what_?"

"That I'm a police informant," he said as his eyebrows raised above his glasses.

Finnick snapped his head back to look at the road he was traversing, and the air in the van stilled despite the vehicle's movement. "No," he deadpanned.

"Finnick, he won't blame you," Nick said tactfully. "You just found out about it today, and he'll just see you coming directly to him after you found out."

"I ain't worried about him icin' me, fool!" Finnick shouted, taking passing glares at his passenger with a sneer. "I'm worried about him icin' _you_!"

"You know full well that Big has got people in the ZPD. When I show up in the system in a couple days, guess what he'll think," he stated, gesturing out in front of them with one paw as he turned in his seat to face the fennec completely. "That I ratted on him about everything that I knew. And that is a _lot_."

"And how the hell is me tellin' him gonna make it better?"

"It's the best way for me to actually _talk_ to him," he appealed. "If he sends the bears after me again, I don't know how long I can run. Tell him that I told you to do it. Tell him that I want to talk. If not for me, then for the sake of his granddaughter's godmother."

"No, Nick," he pointedly shot out a paw towards the red fox with a sharp edge to his voice. "You need to _run_. As far away from this city as possible." Finnick placed both of his paws onto the steering wheel, gripping the faux leather like he was trying to choke the life out of it. "If you ain't gonna do the smart thing and tell the fuzz where they can shove it, do the second best and skip."

"No more running, Fin," he shook his head. "I made a promise."

"This ain't the way you go straight. This is the way you end up frozen solid underneath the floorboards."

"This is the _only_ way to go straight! I'm leaving the Family," Nick hissed. "After that, then I'll think about what I'm gonna do with myself."

"You ain't _in_ the Family anymore," Finnick retorted. "Yo' dumb ass was lucky enough to be forced out after three straight months of wastin' his time."

Nick snorted at the small driver, his lips pulling up slightly in an argumentative sneer. "Finnick… I'm a Wilde," he started. "Like it or not, I was a part of the Family even when they were trying to kill me." He stuck one paw out onto the dash and tapped on it with his outstretched claw. "I want to _bury_ it," he began with distinct finality to his tone. " _All_ of it. I was lying to myself thinking I was a free mammal, but this time I'm serious about it. I'm tired of being a slave to circumstance." Nick crossed his arms to peer out the window, his ears sliding backwards on the top of his head. "But before that, I have a debt to pay."

Taking small glimpses at his passenger, Finnick fell into a thoughtful pause. When he did speak, it was in a low whisper. "What do you owe him?"

"A lot," he replied. "I can't leave it out there, looming over me for the rest of my life. It has to be payed."

Finnick snorted loudly at that, shaking his head. "How do you know he'll even _let_ you pay it?"

Nick's lips pulled up into a lopsided smile. "I'm going to appeal to his mammality," he said calmly.

The fennec's face scrunched up in distaste, teeth flashing underneath his rising lips. "Yo' serious?" He gawked, turning to Nick. " _That's_ yo' plan?"

"It's a work in progress, but yes," he agreed. "That's the jist of it."

Finnick's disbelieving eyes lingered on Nick a tad more than was safe while he was still driving. "You _are_ crazy," he bemoaned, his expression seemingly pulled down by the forces of gravity.

"Say what you want about Big," Nick started. "But he understands what it is to do what you have to for family."

The brow on Nick's driver furrowed comically, his mouth having never not closed. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"I'm not just buying out for myself, Fin," he told his friend. "Carrots and I got his help for the case, and I told you that I'm going to see this thing through all the way. I can't let her have a favor for the mob hang over her head."

"I thought she saved Fru Fru?" He questioned. "Wasn't he just repayin' that?"

Nick slid his sunglasses down his muzzle so he could look at the fennec uninhibited. "When he didn't kill us and told us about Manchas, he _did_ ," he retorted. "Do you really think the thing with Weaselton was out of the goodness of his little shrew heart?"

"He had an investment with the case bein' solved," Finnick defended. "Savage bears is bad fo' business."

" _Exactly_ ," Nick concurred. "He's a businessmammal, Finnick. Just because he was getting something out of the favor already does not mean he thinks it's all square. I'm going to convince him to let her off the hook," he lowered his voice several decimals to accentuate his next words, "and maybe, if he's feeling generous, me as well."

"What makes you so sure 'bout any of this?" He cocked an eyebrow, glancing over in Nick's direction.

Nick shrugged. "I'm not," he said plainly. "But I told you, I have to try."

"This is a bad idea, Nick," Finnick huffed. "Is the bunny really worth it?"

Turning to look at his driver, more confident than he had felt in any moment over the past twenty years, he spoke. "Every bit."

Finnick let out a quick breath through his snout, peering unreadably at the red fox from the corner of his eye. The conversation died down after that, the pair of predators settling into thoughtful silence that continued until they neared their destination. The fennec pulled up next to the curb on the corner of Grass and Verdure, a patch of land sat unusually empty on the packed street, the corner lot fenced in by a chain link perimeter.

"This is it," Finnick said, looking out at the fence blankly.

"Go straight to Big's, Fin," the red fox reiterated. "I want this to all be over as quick as possible."

Finnick let out a quiet snot, gripping the steering wheel uncomfortable. "Careful what you wish for," he grumbled.

Nick gave the fennec a broad smile. "Next time I see you, I'll be a brand new fox," he chirped. "I hope you'll get used to it."

"Nick…" he sighed, glancing over to his passenger. "You know there might not be a next time, right?" He let that settle in for a couple seconds, noting how Nick's smile didn't diminish in the slightest, giving the impression that Finnick's words were not news to him. "Yo' playin' with fire, and if you get burned, yo' gonna get burned badly."

He rolled his head around, looking out at the empty lot. "If it comes to that, there's a black ledger in the stash," he calmly replied. "It's got some instructions inside that you should read."

The fennec stared back at his friend for a long moment before letting out a series of dark chuckles. "There's nothin' I can say that'll change yo' mind, is there?" He asked, shaking his head.

"My mind's all made up," Nick replied cheerfully, turning back to look at Finnick. He slowly removed his sunglasses so he could look the fennec in his eyes, sliding them into the pocket on his blood red Hawaiian shirt. "It's been fun, Finnick," he lamented, sticking his paw out the the smaller mammal. "Really. You're a better friend than I deserve."

Snorting at Nick's actions, he took his paw with his own, shaking it several time. "If you don't deserve me," he started playfully. "What do you call the bunny?"

Nick pulled his paw back when they were done shaking. "Why do you think I'm doing all of this?" He replied.

Hesitating to get out of the van, the red fox lingered in Finnick's presence for a moment, rejoicing in the feeling. None of this was normal for him, and he didn't think it was ever going to go back to how it was before. It just wasn't possible for him to do it anymore. In some ways, he wouldn't regret any of the things he did, but now he was starting to have the feeling that he regretted not being more of a friend to the fennec.

They had known each other for more than nine years, but it was almost like they never progressed passed just being loners together. _Maybe that'll change now, too_ , he thought. _Maybe we'll go get a beer, or something stupidly normal like that. Hell, I drag him out to the sticks and Hare can come with us on a guy's night_. Nick had to suppress a laugh from the absurdity of it all, though he couldn't stop a genuine smile reaching over his muzzle. Even in the face of what Nick had to do next, he wasn't scared. Somehow the thought of not having to run anymore filled him with another feeling that he wasn't familiar with. He was getting a lot of those.

"Do you remember that time we were sellin' balloons in the park?" Finnick asked, breaking the silence. He was staring out at the storm again, resting on his forearms that he draped over the steering wheel.

Nick cocked an eyebrow, turning to him. "Are you talking about the time when that rabbit came up to us and started screaming?"

"That's the one," he smiled lazily out into the rain, his amber eyes lidded. "She came out of nowhere covered ears to ankles with baby slings full of kits, the damnedest thing you've ever seen, I tell ya."

"Yeah," Nick remembered, looking at the roof of the van distantly. "I was just giving that fawn a replacement after he tripped, and she came up pissed off." His lips raised in a large smile as the memory came to him. "She started strong, too. Calling us a couple 'no-good, lowlife hustlers' and 'where did you steal those balloons from'. She nearly blew a gasket when I gave the fawn all thirty balloons I was carrying."

"Ha! Yeah!" Finnick chuckled. "What did she say?" He shook his head as he narrowed his eyes in thought, his smiling maw still showing rows of sharp teeth.

"She said, 'Just who the hell do you think you're playing?'" Nick replied, putting on a higher voice to imitate the rabbit of memory.

Finnick laughed again, closing his eyes as his chest shook with his deep voice. "And what did you say to that?" He breathed, turning to look at Nick.

"'But ma'am'," Nick chirped, imitating himself. "'I'm just trying to show your kits what a good role model looks like.'"

The fennec howled at that, smacking the steering wheel in amusement. He settled down after a couple spouts, wiping the back of his paw across his face. "She called the damn one-time on us after that," he smiled. "The look on her face when they had to explain to her that we had all the right paperwork."

"Good times," Nick nodded. "It made that fawn's day. The mother even stuck around to defend us."

"Yeah…" Finnick trailed off, his voice lowering into a gravelly whisper. "A goddamn rabbit, Nick," he shook his head with an unreadable expression, though his tone let him know that the fennec wasn't talking about the rabbit of memory. "I can't believe it."

Nick stared at his friend blankly for a moment before turning to look back out the window. "Neither do I," he replied softly. The van remained in doleful silence for a long few seconds as Nick slowly retrieved his sunglasses from his shirt's pocket. His slid them over his muzzle carefully, dragging the action out. He took one more glance at the fennec who did not meet his vision before popping the door open and jumping into the rain.

"I'll see you later, Nick," Finnick finally spoke out, turning to look at him.

"Take a good look, Finnick," Nick smiled at his friend, gesturing down at his excessively bright clothes and matted fur. "This is the last time you'll see the _hustler_ Nick Wilde."

"If only I was so lucky," he deadpanned.

Nick let out a jovial breath through his open smile. "I guess I'm glad you aren't that lucky," he said.

Finnick hummed at the red fox. "I'm gonna hit the tables at the Palm after I see Big," he started. "If I win some, I'll throw you a real nice lookin' funeral. I'll even get your bunny a big bouquet."

The sharp smile that Nick had on melted into a genuine look, the features of his face softening. "Don't get anything poisonous," he warned with a light tone. "I'm sure she'd like some comfort food while she's sitting in an empty wake."

The fennec snorted at his friend, shaking his head with a lopsided smile of his own. His amber eyes watched Nick as he thought. "Ciao," he finally offered, both of the predators knowing it could be the last word that would pass between them. Nick simply gave Finnick a wider smile and a two finger salute, shutting the door firmly. The van remained where it was only long enough for Finnick to shift out of park, pulling out from the curb and down the street without hesitation.

Nick watched the headlights for as long as he could, the red orbs brightening some distance away as he pressed on the breaks to turn. As quick as the van was back in his life, it was gone, vanishing behind the packed cityscape and ever present downpour. Nick slowly glanced around, the dreary gray light of the storm even darker behind his shades. The street was empty except for a number of predators walking down the flooded sidewalk under large umbrellas. The bricked storefronts and old streetlamps stretch on for blocks in all three directions from the corner Nick was standing at, Verdure Ave. coming to a dead end at Grass St.

Turning back to the chain link enclosement, Nick sauntered over to a gate held closed by thick chain and a massive padlock. Sticking his paw into his pants pocket, he pulled out an old looking bronze key and unlocked the padlock, the chain falling heavily onto the ground. He pulled the gate open gingerly, still being bombarded by the falling water from the sky. Nick walked out into the small field of scraggly looking overgrowth, dragging his hind paws over the ground as he went.

The rain picked up in waves around him, the ebb and flow of the pelting water sending roarous sound throughout the city. Nick looked up to the two buildings that framed the lot, each stretching further down the streets that created the intersection. The plain brick faces ran with water, the streams flowing down the mortar grid towards the hard ground. Large black streaks stretched up either face, smoking the dark red brick with deep scorches. The remnants of a concrete foundation lay haphazardly about the lot, pieces of trash and litter stuck to the soaked grass.

Nick made his way over to a rusting blue shipping container pushed up into the back of the lot against one of the buildings, framed on all sides by black scars in the face of the brick. He unlocked another padlock on the container and pulled the doors open, the wall of sound created by the rain hitting the thin metal roof thundered out towards him as he stepped out of the rain. It was dark in the container, the bark blue walls and weathered wooden floor stretched out symmetrically all the way to the back, framing a collection of random junk.

Making his way over to the middle of the container, Nick fished out his pen and kneeled down onto the wooden planked floor. He stuck the pen into a small hole in the wood, poking about until he found the mechanism he was looking for. After a short time, the sound of some metallic clicking rose above the pelting noise of the rain and the board with the hole in it popped upwards. Nick pulled the board away, revealing a hollow space underneath him. He wasted no time sticking his paws exactly where they needed to go, unlatching a number of metal clamps on the inside of the compartment. When he was done, he lifted four boards away from the floor that had been attached together to create the facade, and sat it back behind him with the other board.

Nick looked down into the hole in the floor at the meager contents. A rounded metal box with a lock, a small flowery travel case, a bag of some random clothes, a suit covered in plastic laid out flatly on the stone floor with a filebox on top of it, and a black ledger sitting on top of that all sat idly in a cement compartment. It represented everything that he didn't want to lose, all laid bare in a secret compartment underneath a rusting shipping container. _Maybe the real absurdity is what my life was like before all of this_ , Nick thought. _Hard to think how this even happened_.

He planted his paw onto the precipice of the hole so he could support himself as he leaned down into the compartment, grabbing the aluminum handle that hooked onto the top of the rounded metal box. He pulled into into his lap as he straightened out, and proceeded to stick his claw into the scratched up keyhole, prodding at the mechanism within. After a short few second, the lip popped open. Nick gingerly raised the lid with both paw delicately framing either side and peered down into the contents.

It was nothing but knick knacks and trinkets. Small folded papers that had been worn down into almost cloth-like flexibility from too much handling, a tiny bronze neckerchief slide with an 'R' engraved into the front, a greening copper ring with more dents and dings than anything fit to wear, a simple shiny gold ring, a zippo lighter with a vixen dressed in a bikini sitting on an atomic bomb with the initials C.W. scratched into the aluminum, and a silver locket attached to a broken chain all lay in an unordered mess with sewing needles, scraps of cloth, buttons, and several claw accommodating thimbles.

Nick pulled out his wallet and dropped it into the box, shutting it promptly and clicking the lock back into place with his claw. He went to work refitting the wooden facade into the floor, taking great pains in making sure that nothing looked out of the ordinary to anyone that didn't know about the compartment. When he pressed the spring-loaded final board back into place, Nick wiped his forehead with the back of his paw. He stood up lethargically, glancing into the back of the container that held an assortment of other items.

Strolling over to the back of the container, he pushed the stroller that him and Finnick used for a number of hustles out of the way so he could stand in front of a blackened door. The Victorian style door was charred on every edge and corner, the beautiful craftsmanship sullied by black streaks and peeling paint. Nick ran his paw over the glass on the front of the door, tracing his pads over golden lettering.

The caption shown out into dreary interior, reflecting the light from outside perfectly to showcase neatly painted golden letters. Nick stared blankly at the glass, his paw flatly stretched out under the caption 'Wilde & Son's'.


	10. Don't make it round

_5:17 pm, September 14th_

* * *

Nick strolled lazily through the deserted streets, weaving his stride between the edges of the sidewalk in a contented drift. His blood red Hawaiian shirt clung to his form, and the fur on his head was slicked down by the rain that continued to fall. It was actually pretty cold, the September air having chilled the storm as it made it's way over Zootopia. Despite having issues actually seeing out of the sunglasses that continuously spotted with new droplets of water, his lopsided smile clung to his face without apprehension.

He could have easily taken the subway, the trip from Grass St. to Sousten St. station being nothing but a short five minute ride, but Nick had instead opted to walk through the city in the rain. Living the way he did had allowed him to develop a unique kind of resistance to the environments he traveled, and he seldom let go of a chance to be out in the open air, regardless of the conditions. Not that he had much of a choice most of his life.

Still, the thought of a quick subway ride out of the rain would seem rather convenient to most mammals, but not Nick. He didn't like riding the train anymore; it just felt wrong for him to do so. One of the first skills he had learned when he was forced onto the streets was pickpocketing, something he had showcased on Judy, and later on the ocelot waitress, less than a day ago. It left a bad taste in his mouth every time he remembered doing it, so he stuck to back alleys and empty streets most of the time.

His long life as a mammal of disreputable activity had changed his perspective on the world so much that it surprised him. Nick found that every time he walked into a building or alley, he just instinctively knew everything about it. The best hiding places, the quickest route that he would take if he needed to run, which direction to lose larger pursuers, where to sit or stand to give him the greatest advantage if he needed it, it all just flooded into his mind. He didn't see mammals of different sizes or shapes, he saw targets with varying potential of success. It honestly disturbed him, looking back on it.

The smile plastered across the red fox's muzzle tapered somewhat at the train of thought. He glanced around the street, trying desperately to see more than just the strategic qualities of the layout, but was disappointed once again. Knowledge is never a bad thing to have, but the thought that Nick knew exactly which garbage can had the greatest chance of something edible, which storm drain was the best if he caught a glimpse of a glossy black limo, and which storefront had the least security for the highest loot haunted his mind. Not because it was bad to know these thing, but _why_ he knew them.

Could he really go straight? Could Nick trade in the mind of someone who has done nothing but take and start to give back? He glanced down at his hind paws as they sent small splashes with every step on the concrete. _I have to try_ , he repeated to himself. _I_ need _to try_. Slowing his pace, he came to a stop at the edge of a street corner. Still looking at his hind paws submerged in the water that flowed out onto the street, Nick felt restless. He couldn't place the reason, but the feeling was burning slowly in the back of his mind.

As much as he would like to think about what the feeling meant, he didn't have time for it. If Nick knew Big, he would send out word that he wants to have a talk with Nick right away, and that kind of word generally was for his henchmammals as a kidnapping order, rather than a nice invitation to the red fox. How much time he had, he did not know. Nick did not often just wait for the bears to catch up with him, so it could be anytime between right now and several days away. The sinking feeling in his gut told him it would be sooner rather than later, though.

Nick leaned into a new stride, going in a different direction than his destination. Having not eaten since the diner, he was feeling pretty hungry. It wasn't unusual for him to go several days without eating, but that did not mean he enjoyed the sensation of his muscles cannibalizing themselves for energy, so he opted to visit one of his stashes before taking the trip to his goal. Luck for him he was not far from one of the caches. A blue bag, no less, so it held all variety of equipment, including food.

As the fox made his way down a narrow alleyway, the thought gave him pause. If he was to truly turn a new leaf, then surely he couldn't continue living the way he did, hiding materials throughout the city in concealed alcoves, venturing to use them only when he needed to. More than that, he was going to have to do something about all of the red bags in the city. They were much more nefarious, and quite a bit more dangerous, to just leave lying around. _Add it to the to-do list, Nick_ , he thought to himself, taking off his sunglasses to blow the water off of the lenses. _One paw in front of the other_.

Finally reaching the base of a decrepit looking apartment complex, Nick took the a moment to prepare himself for the climb. In this weather, it was still completely possible to shimmy up a drainpipe, since he had done it a number of times, but it didn't make it any safer. He rubbed the pads of his paws together for a moment before taking a firm grasp onto the slick metal. With one quick motion, Nick propelled himself upwards, weaving paw over paw as he climbed the side of the building.

Nick took several pauses on his way up to the roof, leaning hard into the face of the building and peering behind himself for any prying eyes. Even in normal conditions it was pretty easy to see him crawling up the city structures, but the muted light and colored brick contrasted pretty apparently with his almost neon Hawaiian shirt, which is why he mostly used this cache at night. Thankfully, the city was still mostly deserted, the mammals not taking part in the demonstration either taking refuge from the storm or seeing fit to not bother going out on the town.

Pulling himself up onto the tiled roof of the beaten down building, Nick took great care to have sure footing, sliding his paws into place and securing his balance around the rushing water that flew off the lip, hurtling down towards the hard concrete stories below him. He also only ever came to this cache when it wasn't raining, but today he felt almost invincible, so he couldn't bring himself to care about the treacherous path that led to his hiding spot. _I already have a death wish_ , he thought to himself as he slowly made his way across the slick brick tiles. _No point in pretending I'm being careful_.

Nick leaped into an old windowed outcropping on the roof, tumbling out of the rain and into a bone dry attic space. The old wood had grayed in age, the beams and supports that criss-crossed through the dusty space giving the impression of ancient sturdiness. Nick shook himself off, twisting his form from his nose all the way to the tip of his tail, shaking away enough water to darken the wood around him considerably. He straightened out, taking his sunglasses off leisurely and placing them in his shirt pocket.

Having seemingly no time to waste, Nick strolled over to the far end of the attic, passing nothing but lone beams and empty floor space, as the building had been largely abandoned for years now. He came to a stop in front of the inside end of a chimney, the chipped brick and mortar warped in age, sticking out at odd angles in every direction. Nick stuck his snout into the chimney, sniffing at the bricks thoughtfully. Tracing his nose over a number of broken bits of the structure, he took deep breaths to catch the scent he was looking for.

Through the pelting rain, which stirred up all manner of scents, Nick could smell the one thing that he could trace from across the city. Capsaicin. The word left a bone-dry feeling in the back of his throat, making him curl his tongue backwards to lap at the far reaches of his maw. He leaned back from the chimney to peer at the brick that wafted the smell in his direction, his blank expression never changing. _At least it's still here_ , he thought, yanking the brick free of the structure.

Nick tore brick by brick down until there was a significant hole in the chimney, larger enough for him to stick his entire torso through, and he did just that. Allowing his eyes to adjust to the lack of light, Nick's ears perked up to listen to the metal covering at the top of the shaft, drumming ceaselessly with the force of the rain. Soon enough he could see inside the space, the darkness giving way to the grid of brick and mortar. Nick looked down, seeing the sliver of light from the first story reception area nearly forty feet away. Just below him, though, hanging on a jagged piece of metal, was a dark blue duffel bag.

 _You've seen better days_ , Nick thought, running the pads of his paw over the fraying nylon handle. He hadn't replaced this bag when going through all of his caches over the past couple months, though he was now thinking he should have. The space was starting to irritate his eyes, as the putrid stench of capsaicin billowed out from the bag. He may not have replaced it, but he certainly topped it up on fox repellant. With so many hiding places, the exact spot to start uncovering the cache was hard to keep track of. A problem the fox had solved by soaking travel tags in fox repellant, allowing his nose to do the remembering for him.

Pulling the bag off of the jagged metal and back through the hole, he tossed it haphazardly onto the gray wood. Nick spent almost no time at all rummaging through the bag for what he was looking for, already having cleaned it out of junk the month before. Triumphantly, he lifted out a can along with an accompanying can opener, and reached in to grab his metal spork, but found his paw brushing up against a padded cardboard box. Nick's expression furrowed as he looked at the box. Gingerly retrieving his spork, he also took the cardboard into his grip carefully, bringing it out of the bag like it could cut him.

Nick strolled back over to the windowed outcropping with can and opener in one paw, and his spork and cardboard box in the other. He sat down in front of the framed storm, crossing his legs as he listlessly stared out into the dark clouds and rain. Having placed off of the items he was carrying in front of him, he picked up the can first. Nick rolled the tin container around in his paw in muted distaste. The bright colors doing it no favors in looking any more appetizing.

'Bennett's Beans & Bugs' was written out in swirling font on the front of the tin can, a raccoon in a chef's hat winking to the beholder. To Nick, he really couldn't stand this stuff, but it was cheap and filling. You don't have much of a choice when it comes to food in this kind of life, but it was far better than anything you could find in the garbage. _Well, most anything_ , Nick thought, cocking his eyebrow at an ingredient list he had read more times than he would like to remember.

It did not take him long to get the can open and start scarfing down the cold, gooey slop. If there was a title for being a "professional can opener", Nick would win it paws down he had opened so many of the damn things. The texture wasn't great, the flavor was worse, and the smell could kill, but Nick stuck spork-full after spork-full of the slop into his gaping maw. So he sat there, cross-legged and tail waving behind him as he watched the storm from the safety of an abandoned attic. _I wonder if Carrots is seeing the same thing_ , he thought, watching the rain framed behind a wooden opening. _I wonder if she's in the loft right now_.

Nick paused his action, a pile of chunky slime hanging dangerously outside his open mouth, threatening to fall off the eating utensil. What had he even said to her last? What was the last words that she might possibly ever hear from him? 'I'll talk to you tonight'? He carelessly tossed the metal spork back into the tin with a wet impact and sat the can down. _That would be par for the course, wouldn't it_ , he thought bitterly. _I'd be made a liar from beyond the grave_.

 _You're acting like you're already dead, Nick_ , he retorted back to himself. _You still have plenty of time to run_. Silently staring out at the rain, his mind wandered to what Judy might be thinking about if she was watching the same thing. Would she be thinking about last night as much as him? Is she glancing at the clock at the edge of her seat waiting for a washed-up fox to call her? Nick let out an exhausted sigh, leaning back into his arms.

His eyes felt like they were being weighed down as his snout slowly tilted to his right, giving the cardboard box beside him an impartial stare. Picking up the box carefully, he tilted it around in his paws, carefully looking for any markings or labels that he knew wouldn't be there. Nick used his claw to slice the packing tape down the center of the lid, giving him access to the contents. Pressed into the lid, laying carefully on the styrofoam peanuts that filled the cardboard, was a simple looking letter. The only thing on the paper was Nick's name, 'Nicholas Piberius Wilde', spelled out in neat longpaw handwriting.

There were no dates or markings, this Nick knew without having to open the letter. It could have been written a month ago, or it could have been written almost twenty years ago, and he already knew who it was from. He carefully tore one end of the envelope open, pulling out the folded paper with careless attention. Nick opened the folds of the paper and looked down at the incredibly neat longpaw handwriting scratched into the parchment without any guiding lines or mistakes. It was like a letter out of time.

 _Dear Nick,_

 _It has been some time since I have written one of these. How long, I cannot say, but I know that this will reach you all the same. The last time I wrote to you it was winter and I was dying from the cold. I do not know how many months ago that was. If I have made it past another summer, then that is proof enough that all I told you is the truth. If a mammal like me can live forever, then you will have no problems._

 _I am here at the graveyard as I write this; I picked flowers all the way up the mountain path. By the time I finally made it up here, I was carrying so many flowers I could have broken my old back. It seems like it wasn't enough, though. The mammals buried here deserve far more than a couple measly wildflowers and bits of grass. I think it was a mistake putting them up in this graveyard. No matter how many times I look at them, it just seems wrong that they're in the dirt and not out here._

 _I am old now, Nick. I have been old for a long time now, but this does not fill me with regret. Everything I have taught you is the reason I am old, and they are in the ground. Sometimes, when I am writing useless letters with frostbitten paws, it seems like I may have beaten something that doesn't like being beaten, and it finds ways to enact revenge. This tells me nothing but the fact that I am winning, and the universe is just bitter about it._

 _I saw your mother's parents the other day. They are still right where she left them, stewing in their own hatred. All I did was wish her a happy afternoon, and she started at me screaming and waving around her trowel like it was a blade. She seems to think it's my fault that her daughter is gone, though I am not sure I know why she even cares. I guess we all realize what is truly important only after it has been ripped right out of our paws._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Arthur Brenner Wilde_

Nick stared at the paper for a long moment, drinking in the words. Despite the sentimental nature of it, they seemed hollow, almost formulaic. The careful calligraphy and perfectly symmetrical lines of words reflected nothing but the cold, calculating paw that wrote it. He couldn't know for sure what his grandfather's intentions were, but he equally couldn't trust seemingly apparent clues. Whether he really was at the graveyard, or if he really had seen his mother's parents, he would guess that was a lie.

Setting the paper down beside him, Nick moved to pick up the cardboard box again. He stuck his paw into the styrofoam peanuts, searching for a grasp on the jar he knew was inside. When his claws tapped against the metal lid, he took his time pulling out the glass as to not spill any of the peanuts. Finally free, he discarded the box carefully, never tearing his eyes from the mason jar in his paw, filled to the brim with a clear liquid.

Taped to the top of the metal lip, was a small paper card. Nick lifted it up so that he could read the caption underneath. Much to his expectations, the caption 'You can take the edge off, just don't make it round', was written in perfect calligraphy. He turned the jar over in his paw, impassively observing the faceless glass and metal lid.

" _Here, Nick. Have some of this,"_ he could hear his grandfather's words from so long ago, the memory coming back to the him as he sat in silence.

" _What is it?"_ The young fox replied, looking up at the offered jar an old, graying fox was handing down to him.

" _Something I made a little while back,"_ the old vulpine smiled through his dark shades, a sick curl in his mostly gray maw mimicking a smile. _"I'd say it's one of my best batches of lightning to date."_

" _Lightning?"_ Nick had asked, tilting his head to the side in confusion. _"What's that?"_

" _Moonshine, Nick,"_ he informed. Growing tired of waiting for the small predator to take the jar, he thrust it into his paws forcefully. _"That there's one-hundred percent white lightning,"_ he pointed with a deliberately sharpened claw at the glass.

" _I can't have any of this, Gramps!"_ Nick complained, pushing the jar as far away from him as possible in his outstretched arms, though keeping it in his grasp. _"I'm not even twelve!"_

" _Nonsense,"_ the old vulpine waved. _"That's your mother talking, boy. I'm not sure if you've noticed, but she isn't around much anymore,"_ he spoke in a low hum, an edge settling into his voice as he pointed again at the jar. _"Drink it."_

" _But-"_ he tried to interject, getting cut off almost immediately.

" _No buts!"_ The larger predator hissed, sticking one paw on his hip as he wagged a finger at Nick. _"You will mind me when I tell you to do something."_

" _I really don't want to,"_ he shot up, his face scrunching up in distaste for the liquid in his hands. _"I'm not supposed to!"_

" _I'm not supposed to make it, either,"_ the old fox laughed. _"Didn't stop me. Drink it."_

Nick did not remember much immediately after that. He could vaguely recall the burning in his throat and stumbling around the city, vomiting what was left of his stomach every fifty feet. He could recall every minute detail of the morning after, though, even to this day. He woke up covered in blood, sprawled out on top of a pile of fish heads and cleaned bones, with a seagull picking at his fur.

The panic attack that followed had cemented itself as one of the worst mornings Nick Wilde had ever endured. Couple the sheer terror and dread of waking up that way, head pounding and nauseous with the aftermath of alcohol poisoning and badly bruised from head to toe, with the fact that he had to walk out of the fish packing facility covered in blood. The workers laughed at him all the way out, howling in joy at the little fox they had thrown in the chum pile.

He spent several hours in the bay water, scrubbing his fur raw while crying. It seemed like no matter how much he scrubbed, he could still feel the sticky blood matting his fur together. The smell of fish would not leave him, and the fright of his nightmare of a morning caused his hackles to stand straight all the way through the city, eyes locked on his hind paws as he walked dejectedly. When he finally made it to the street corner he knew his grandfather would be standing at, he only smiled at Nick.

" _Oh, hey there, Nick,"_ he chirped like nothing was wrong. Like he couldn't smell the vomit, blood, fish, and pure dread radiating off of the fox. _"Where have you been all day? You're burning daylight."_

" _I hate you,"_ Nick replied, never taking his eyes from his hind paws.

" _Good,"_ the old vulpine whispered back, taking his shades off to peer down at the fox with fiery orange eyes. _"Tell me, Nick,"_ he eased. _"What did you learn?"_

" _I learned that I hate you,"_ the young fox repeated. _"You are the meanest mammal ever."_

" _Besides that, boy,"_ he said, cracking a large, toothy smile. _"Tell me what you learned."_

Nick thought for a moment, trying to guess what sick lesson his grandfather was trying to teach him this time. Settling on the easiest guess, he whispered, _"I learned that Moonshine is the worst."_

" _You're getting dangerously close over there, squirt,"_ the old mammal said, narrowing his fiery orbs at his grandson. _"Why is it the worst?"_

" _Because I feel awful and I hate it,"_ Nick replied.

" _Okay, straying from the point a little,"_ the larger predator said, cocking his head to the side in annoyance. _"What else?"_

" _I can't remember anything,"_ Nick offered sadly, slouching his shoulders as he did so. _"I couldn't control myself, and I didn't like it."_

" _Exactly,"_ his grandfather snapped his paw at him, smiling widely at his perceived success in teaching Nick a lesson. _"If you lose control for one moment, if you lose focus, you'll end up exactly how you ended up today, or worse. You'll be dead. What do we say about being dead, Nick, my boy?"_

" _Never,"_ he meekly said, looking away from his hind paws, but in the opposite direction of the larger predator.

" _That's right,"_ he nodded. _"You can't ever lose control. That's when it all comes back to get you. This stuff here?"_ The old fox questioned, pickup up the jar half full of clear liquid that sat beside him. _"It's one of many things that'll take control away from you. The world is full of stuff like that. Most of it whispers sweet things into your ear until it's too late, and then you know how you didn't just lose control, you practically gave it away,"_ he said, gesturing out around them at the bustling cityscape around them. _"Ever vigilant, Nick. The world is a dangerous place."_

Nick shot his piercing green eyes up to glare at his elder, abandoning any semblance of respect. _"Because it's full of mammals like you?"_ He growled.

" _Oh, Nick, I'm the least of your worries,"_ the old vulpine said with a lopsided smile. _"I'm small game to the bear. He's not one to beat around the bush. That's why you can't let go of control. You have to fight for it, with every breath you take."_

" _You drink that stuff all the time, though,"_ the young fox hissed.

" _You can take the edge off, Nick,"_ he chuckled. _"Just don't make it round."_

Nick stared at the jar in his hands, the memory playing through his mind as he stared straight through the liquid at the gray wood on the other side. He sighed heavily, pulling the jar closer to him so he could twist the lid off. Bringing the lip of the glass up to his snout, he pulled a deep breath to have the acrid scent fill his nasal cavity. The powerful scent lingered in his nose like turpentine and made him want to sneeze, but instead he brought the jar away from his face again to watch the liquid sway impassively.

 _You can take the edge off_ , he thought to himself, tilting the container upwards to take a long drink. The liquid washed over the inside of his maw, and for a moment it did not taste like anything. Then his gums started tingling slightly, his tongue seemingly falling asleep cradling the liquid in his maw for a drawn out moment before swallowing. The back of his throat burned with the connection of the Moonshine, causing Nick to let out an exaggerated breath of air after it was all down. _Just don't make it round_.

He stood up abruptly, packing up his collection of items strewn out around him. He left the letter behind as he carried the rest back to his cache, taking the time to situate the mason jar back into the packing peanuts inside the box. Spending very little time in his supremely rehearsed movements, he placed everything back inside the dark blue duffel bag except the empty tin can. After he was done, he stuck a claw in a rip in the canvas, pulling it open slightly.

Inside the clandestined compartment was a small folded set of bills, pushed as far down as they could go to conceal them. Nick pulled the bills out and counted them. _Only a hundred_ , he thought plainly, having only had to wave through the collection of denominations once. _I'm sure that'll be enough_. Straightening out, he stuck the bills in his shirt pocket before stuffing the duffel bag back through the hole in the chimney with one arm. He did not even have to look to hook the handle on the jagged piece of metal.

He straightened out and looked at the hole in the brick for a moment, wondering if he should just take the whole bag with him. Deciding against trying to carry it down a drainpipe in the rain, Nick went to work bricking up the opening. Taking the last brick only by cradling it by the tips of his claws, he carefully slipped it into place, completing the facade. Nick stared at his handiwork with his paws on his hips, looking for any tells that it was a hiding place that he may have left behind.

Finally satisfied, he turned to leave, picking up the empty tin can as he strolled back towards the windowed outcropping. Nick only slowed when he came back to the letter he left on the ground, bending over to pick it up. He only looked over the paper for a few seconds, not even reading any of the words, just observing the disgustingly perfect handwriting. Snarling to the empty attic space, Nick crumpled the letter up and tossed it out the open window. It was gone before he could even think about. It.

Nick stood still for a moment, drinking in the cacophony of sound produced by the rain hammering the tiled roof. He took in a ragged breath before letting out a slow, easing exhale. Snapping his jaw shut a few times and shaking his head, he was out in the rain again, perched on a rooftop overlooking an entire neighborhood. Nick moved slowly to the edge of the tile shingling, inching his way with the rushing water as to not slip.

When he could see the alleyway below, he caught sight of an open green dumpster all the way down, pressed up against the brick wall of the adjacent building. Pulling his arm back, he tossed the tin can gracefully down. He stared at the falling can impassively as he put on his sunglasses, watching it match the speed of the falling water as it plummeted down towards the alley until it landed in the dumpster with a crackling echo.

Letting out a snort through his snout, Nick inches his way over to the drainpipe that clung to the side of the building, his damp clothes soaking completely once again. When he finally reached the pipe, he abandoned his careful movements for deliberate grace, sliding off of the lip of the roof into a freefall before twisting to grab the pipe with both hind and fore paws. The metal tube sung with his decent, ringing with him as he passed the metal ties anchoring it into the building.

Nick landed onto the concrete with a small splash, sending water in every direction, and immediately started strolling back down the street. He came back to the street corner he had turned on not long ago, and returned his stride in the direction of his destination. It was a good thing, too, as his stomach started to radiate a low warmth as the liquor entered his bloodstream. Nick started humming to himself as he sauntered along, weaving his paws behind his back as he leisurely made his way through the mostly deserted city.

The mixture of a full stomach, albeit full of cold, canned slop, and alcohol did little to ease the feeling of anticipation that crawled its way under his fur. The alcohol helped, but the restless buzz still made his ears flicker. If anything, he was just concerned that the feeling might distract him from his important activities. _That's rich_ , he thought. _I think you should be worried about other things distracting you_. Nick let in a hissing breath through his teeth, walking around a trash can that had been knocked over.

Another thing tormented his already distracted mind as he neared his destination, pulling his attention like a magnet. It was Judy. He couldn't stop thinking about the fact that his very last words to her would mark him a liar if things didn't go the way he hoped. Maybe it was a small thing to be worried about, given the concept behind the idea implied impending death, but Nick allowed his life to preemptively "flash before his eyes". Even with everything he had done, it all seemed like small mistakes compared to leaving her with nothing but a "I'll talk to you later."

Nick sighed, pulling his sunglasses off of his muzzle and rubbing the bridge of his snout. _Stop it_ , he chastised himself. _How many times have I warned you about thinking your way into a corner_. Snapping his jaw shut a couple times again, in a rehearsed preparation to raise a mask he had cultivated through decades of hardship, he softened his features into a lidded, lopsides smirk. Nick wrung out his shades to free the larger droplets that clung to the dark lenses and replaced it back on his muzzle.

The brick factory building became visible after rounding a jutting urban lounge, umbrellas folded up even in the rain as the shop was closed. The factory looked just like the picture, and Nick glanced around the base of the building for an entrance to a lobby or reception area. Finding what he was looking for, he took his last couple steps in the rain before coming under a tiled brick awning just ahead of the door.

Nick too a moment to shake as much water off of himself as he could before entering, not feeling like being thrown out on account of waltzing in soaked and tracking a stream of water in his wake. Mildly satisfied, he pulled the glass door open, placing his shades back into his shirt pocket. "Hello?" He called out into the simple reception area, though no mammal was sitting at the monochrome desk. "Is anyone there?"

"One moment!" Nick heard from beyond a doorway that sat behind the desk. He could hear heavy machinery chugging away from deeper in the building, the grinding humm of conveyer belts and assembly machines making a cup of water on the desk vibrate. Just as Nick was admiring the small lounge of ratty looking couches, a beaver walked through the door, stopping when he saw the red fox. "Oh," he muttered with raised eyebrows.

Nick could see it was the same beaver from the picture. "Sorry I'm soaked," he apologized, spreading his arms out and looking down at his clingy clothing. "It's raining pretty hard out there."

The beaver's surprised expression shifted as Nick spoke, continuing his stride towards the fox. "It's fine," he waved. "It's not like this place can get any more water damage. What can I do for you?"

Smiling at the small mammal, Nick made sure to not part his lips. "I'm looking for VegPen Incorporated," he informed the rodent dressed in jeans and a dark blue collared shirt. "I understand this is where they manufactured their stuff?"

The beaver slowed to a halt in front of him, his blank expression narrowing. "I'm sorry," he started in a way that sounded rehearsed. "We don't handle any questions about the quality of their products anymore."

"No, I'm actually looking for anyone who worked for them."

He cocked an eyebrow at the predator, blinking at the statement. "Really?" the beaver asked curiously.

"Yeah," Nick nodded. He glanced around the reception thinking about his words carefully, as this wasn't just some hustle, he really wanted this. "Nobody has come around asking about them?" Nick eased, peering back over to the beaver.

He responded by curling his lip into a theatrical frown and shrugging his shoulders. "Not for months now," he said crossing his arms. "They cleared out of town pretty quickly."

Nick tilted his muzzle to the side, looking at the beaver at an angle. "Did you work for them?"

"No," he drew out, cocking his head. "We're a contract manufacturer, so we worked with them, you could say."

Starting to get the impression this was just another dead end like the phone numbers, his posture relaxed as he scratched the underside of his muzzle in thought. "Do you know how I can get in contact with them?" He finally asked?

"They're gone, as far as I can tell," the beaver shook his head. "The CEO, a whitetail deer, didn't speak a whole lot of english. I wouldn't be surprised if she up and left the country."

Nick let out a long sigh as his shoulders slumped in disappointment. "Well, thanks, anyway," he blew out. "Sorry to waste your time."

The beaver watched the fox turn to leave vacantly for a moment before stopping him. "Why are you looking for them?"

Nick turned his head and tilted his muzzle to look at the rodent with one lidden eye. "A friend of mine had one of their products," he stated simply. "She liked it a lot, but she recently lost it. I was hoping to get her a new one."

He stood there staring at the drenched red fox in front of him for a moment, looking down at his brightly colored shirt. "They left some stuff up in the office behind," he started uncertainly. "Paperwork and some random junk. You can look through it if you want."

Turning enough that he could point his head directly at the beaver, Nick brightened up immediately, though he quickly dropped back down to suspicion. "You're okay with that?" He said.

"Sure," he shrugged, turning around and waving for the fox to follow him. "Come on." He led Nick through the door and out onto a windowed office that overlooked the factory floor. Two dozen mammals stood on production lines as brightly colored orange objects moved in all directions around them.

"I don't owe them any favors," he started, handing Nick a hardhat and a pair of safety goggle as he put on a set of his own. "We had a contract to manufacture for them for a couple months as a trial period, and then they were going to sign on for a couple years," he continued, opening a door that separated the factory floor from the office, a wall of sound slamming into Nick's sensitive ears. He splayed them back under the hardhat, trying to pick out the beaver's voice as they made their way into the space. "When the contract was up, they hit the road and flushed the company. Strangest thing I've ever seen, and pissed me off pretty good, too," he finished with a raised voice to be heard over the loud machinery and clacking merchandise.

From the path they took, Nick could see they were making, or at least assembling, what looked to be utensils of some kind. It wasn't until they passed a bin of completely product did ne realize they were pumpkin carving packs, the cheap kind you saw in gas stations and grocery stores. "Do you know why they liquidized it?" He shot back loudly, turning to look at the beaver leading him through the floor.

"Couldn't tell you," he tilted his head back to say, keeping his eyes in front of him. "Those foreign types never liked the salt-of-the-earth type of manufacturing us Zootopians do. Probably just weren't making the returns they were hoping for."

"Nice place you got here," he trailed off, looking over the manufacturing facility. "What was your name again?"

"Roy," he chirped, spinning to walk backwards and sticking a paw out towards Nick. "Roy Platt. I'm the owner of this little place."

"Nick Wilde," he replied, shaking his paw without breaking a stride. It didn't even cross his mind to give him a pseudonym, surprising himself at his own name coming out of his maw. "Seems like you're doing fine to me," he quickly continued, brushing over the slip.

"Nah," he dismissed, waving his paw over the floor and turning around to walk normally. "Halloween is an easy market to manufacture for. There's plenty of contracts out there for festive stuff, but we were trying to break out of it with the VegPen deal. The holiday stuff is only good for half the year, and we wanted something a little more steady than that."

"Everyone needs cheap holiday merchandise, Roy," Nick offered back cheerfully. "Where would we be if we didn't have a hundred million new pumpkin carving sets every year?"

"I imagine we'd be in the same place we are now, just with less carved pumpkins," Roy shot back with a smirk. "I never understood it. Kitchen knives and regular spoons work just fine."

"Are you trying to rationalize yourself out of a job over there?" he quickened his pace to fall next to the beavers stride, leaning over to glance at him with one eye and a wide smile. "You should be advocating to ban kitchen cutlery if you want to sell more of them."

"Ha," Roy exhaled, almost inaudibly over the noise of the factory. "I guess you're right. First thing in the morning, I'll head over to City Hall and put in my request."

Nick straightened out, weaving his paws behind his back while he fell further back from the beaver. "I'd mail it in if I were you," he said.

"Right again," the beaver nodded, giving another theatrical frown. "If you don't mind me saying, it's a strange day to be looking into a boarded-up pen company, what with the riots on top of the rain."

"Can't let the sentiments of other mammals stop us from being productive, now can we?" Nick answered. "There's no such thing as tomorrow."

Roy clicked his tongue off his buck teeth enough to snap the sound above the machinery. "Don't I know it," he laughed.

Nick followed the beaver through the crowded floor, passing mammals of all sizes, predator and prey, hard at work carrying boxes or shifting through the conveyer belts in quality control. It always impressed Nick, how mammals, most of whom didn't even know each other's names, could work harmoniously when it comes to pumpkin carvers, but anything to do with actually getting along out in the world was a lost cause. He couldn't stop his snout from waving side to side as the thought reached its way across his mind.

They came to a set of stairs running parallel to the wall, long punched steel steps climbed upwards in a steep sixty degree angle. The wooden door at the top had a foggy glass top panel with the word 'Offices' written out in bold letters across it, and several windows broke up the solid face of the floor wall, though the office behind them had been impenetrably hidden by a number of closed window blinds. The pair of mammals climbed up the stairs, Roy took a keychain from his belt and unlocked the door, pushing it open and flipping a lowed switch on the opposite wall.

He ushered Nick into the room and shut the door behind him. It looked like nobody had used the office in some time, as the the whitewashed office held nothing but a number of empty desks over its flat, blue commercial carpet. Nick resisted the urge to put his shades back on as he squinted through the florescent lighting, stepping to the side as Roy passed him on his way into the middle of the room.

Disappearing under a desk for a second, he came back dragging a large cardboard box behind him. "Okay," he huffed, pulling the cardboard to a stop in front of Nick. "This is it."

"This is all of it?" Nick cocked an eyebrow, looking down at the taped-up cardboard as he kneeled down.

"Yup," he nodded, crossing his arms as he looked at the cardboard himself in thought. "They didn't leave much. Just some random junk from one of their people that had a desk here."

"Personal items, then?" Nick glanced up at the beaver quizzically.

"Some of it," he affirmed. "She took all of her pictures and stuff in a filebox one day I wasn't here, but she left most everything else."

Nick blinked at that, not really knowing why someone would wait for the owner to not be there to clear out their stuff. "Huh," he said lamely, turning back towards the box and slicing the tape with a claw. _This company_ , he exasperated to himself. _I swear... Carrots need to buy sentimental stuff from easier brands to replace_.

Rummaging through the file folders and stacks of paper, Nick dug his paws into the box searching for anything that could help him in his search for a replacement: a rolodex maybe, or possibly an address book. "What are you looking for, exactly?" Roy questioned, peering over Nick's shoulder.

Nick was about to respond when he caught a glimpse of a number of clamshell packages, brightly colored paper framing little carrots with huge 'recorder' and 'try me' stickers across the front of the plastic. "These," Nick sung triumphantly, pulling the clamshells out of the box and giving them a toothy smile. His mood had brightened tremendously at the success, forgetting he was next to a prey animal that might not like the sight of his teeth.

He shuffled through the three packages estatically, finding the last one wasn't shaped like a carrot at all, but a fish. Sitting the two carrot pens down on the top of the box, Nick turned the fish pen over in his hands, admiring the little electronic. "I didn't know they made ones that looked like fish," he murmured, reading the label to find it was also a recorder.

"Didn't make many of those," Roy replied, straightening out and crossing his arms. "Must have made a hundred carrots for every fish."

Nick glanced up at the beaver hopefully, forcing his joy down so he could fall back into his lidded smirk. "How much for all of them?" he questioned, setting the pens aside to search through the box for any more, with no such luck.

"Well, I suppose they're incredibly rare now," he said, a smile creeping across his face to reveal his enormous buck teeth. "Probably the only ones on the market."

Looking up from his fruitless effort, he cocked an eyebrow at the beaver. "Did that little bit of business advice turn you into a haggler?" He said hesitantly, wondering how much Roy was going to get out of him. He was liable to give the beaver all of the money he had on him if he felt like he had to, but he still didn't want to. "I should just keep my trap shut, shouldn't I?"

Roy chuckled at the fox's expression, waving his paw at the box. "They ain't going anywhere in that box," he replied, shaking his head. "Take them."

Nick stood up, looking down at the beaver in front of him. "It's a present, Roy," he drawled out. "You're going to take the sweet satisfaction away from just giving them to me."

The beaver snorted at him, shaking his head with a wide smile. "You tracked them down in the rain when the city was up in arms," he soothed. "I think you can hold onto the idea that you put some work in for them."

"At least take fifty," Nick countered, putting his paw into his shirt pocket and pulling out his collection of denominations and pulling out two twenties and a ten, handing them over to the smaller mammal. "Get your kit something nice."

Roy's eyebrows raised high as Nick mentioned his kits, hesitating for a moment before taking the bills from the fox. "How did you know I have kits?" He asked suspiciously.

Nick pointed at the beaver's shirt, where a uneven tie clip that had the words 'best dad' spelled out in colorful beads kept his black and white striped tie in place. "Tie clip," he smiled.

Roy looked down and his eyes widened, though when he looked up, his smile was just wider. "Oh, that's embarrassing," he chirped. "I didn't even remember I was wearing this."

"It's supposed to be embarrassing," Nick chuckled back. "I made my mother a woven bracelet when I was young, and she wore that ugly thing for years-"

The red fox was cut off when the door to the office was opened, a wall of noise that had been muffled up to this point pulling the attention of both mammals towards the door. A female aardvark knocked redundantly on the door with a worried expression on her face, stepping halfway into the office. "Boss?" She asked fitfully.

"Yes, Mary?" The beaver asked, his brow furrowing at the aardvark's demeanor. "What's wrong?"

"There's a couple of polar bears outside," she replied with a shaking voice, pointing towards the front of the factory. "They came in a limo five minutes ago and they're just standing there."

"What?" Roy mumbled, taking several seconds to comprehend what his assistant was saying. His eyes widened at the realization of who the bears probably work for. "What do they want from us?" He asked, distressed.

Nick sighed heavily, pulling the packaging of a carrot pen open. "Not you, actually," he murmured, turning the pen around in his hand. "I'm sorry, Roy," he calmly continued, looking up at the beaver blankly. "But those white-furred Ursidaes are here for me."

Roy looked over at the fox horrified, bringing his arms up closer to his chest in a show of building tension. "Oh, no," he stammered out. "We've got a back door, I can go tell them you left ten minutes ago and-"

"Now, hold on there," Nick waved a paw at the beaver, tossing the thermoformed plastic that held the carrot in place in a garbage can next to one of the desks. "I have no intention of running from them," he said, giving the pair of smaller mammals an easy smile. "I'm just glad I got my paws on one of these before they caught up to me."

"But-"

"Say, Roy," he said, cutting him off like he wasn't even talking. "I don't suppose you could give me a little privacy?" Nick questioned, moving his gaze between the two prey animals, waving the pen in the air. "I need to put a message on here."

Roy seemed to think about it for a minute before turning towards the door and starting to move past Mary. "Okay," he said in a worried tone. "We'll be at the front door. Mary?"

"Oh!" The aardvark caught on, turning to follow her boss. "Okay, yeah."

After the door shut, and the room settled in a muffled clamor, Nick tilted his snout down, looking at the pen in his paw. He turning it over a few times, admiring the sleek plastic finish of coming right out of the package, not like Judy's pen. He had spent a lot of time just staring at that carrot after the press conference, familiarizing himself with every worn edge and scratch. He found that he liked having it in his paw again, in a weird way.

Carefully, he brought it up to his waiting maw, which was parted slightly in anticipation. He clicked the button down twice, holding it down after the second press. "Hey, Carrots, it's me… Nick," he started lamely, scratching the back of his head with his free paw. "You know, as confident as I was about recording this thing, I don't actually know what to say. If you're getting this, then I guess that means I missed our phone call. I didn't mean to make myself a liar, I just didn't think through the promise. Truth is, I guess I might have bitten off more than I can chew this time."

Nick let a long breath out through his nose before continuing, "I gave up control of the situation. I showed them my hand, and now it's their move," he composed slowly. "I've never been afraid of dying, despite how much energy I've put into staying alive. It's just this time I feel like I've got unfinished business, like I don't want to leave." Nick looked at the pen dumbly, pausing in his pursuit of formulating the perfect words. "I'm glad I met you, Carrots. If nothing else, you made it all worth it for this old fox. None of it seems so bad anymore if it means I got to meet you."

"I-" Nick started, cutting himself off with a exasperated exhale. He pulled his padded finger off of the record button, cutting off his own thought. Nick stood there for some time, looking at the pen, wondering if he should try again. If he should put it some other way to reassure her, or apologize more sincerely. In the end, Nick did nothing. He just stuffed the other two pens, still in their clamshell packaging, in the back of his pants. He wasted no time walking out into the cacophony of sound and down the flight of stairs onto the factory floor.

He made his way past all of the full bins of pumpkin carvers, glancing apathetically over at the mammals hard at work. When he walking back into the separating office, he hung up his hardhat and glasses with littler reservation. It wasn't until he made it almost all the way out of the front door that he slowed his pace, watching the aardvark cower behind her boss as he looked out into the parking lot.

Roy turned to see Nick approaching. "We can still tell them you left," he told the fox, his expression unreadable.

"Not for my sake," Nick replied, looking out of the glass door to see two polar bears standing stiffly next to a sleek black limousine, their faces slightly obscured by large, black umbrellas. "I'm done running, anyway."

The beaver's eyes seemed to soften somewhat, though his face didn't move. "Good luck, Mr. Wilde," he imparted, sticking his paw out towards the fox.

Nick smiled down at the beaver with lidded eyes as he fastened his dark shades over his muzzle, taking the mammal's paw with his own and shaking it. "Don't worry," he breathed. "I make my own luck."

With that, Nick turned abruptly and walked straight out the door, striding confidently towards the two heavy predators that stood in the rain. Their postured stood as solid as rocks as Nick approached them, smiling broadly at the two polar bears.

"Raymond! Kevin!" Nick called, opening his arms to the two bears in greeting. "How's my favorite pair of polar bears doing?"

"We do not know what it is that is your game, fox," One of the bears spoke in a deep, accented voice from under his umbrella, the golden crown logo embroidered on his track jacket's breast shining the the dim light. "But you will know that it will not work," he scowled down at the fox, matching his partner's hatred with dark rimmed eyes.

"Don't have a game this time, Kevin," Nick smiled up at the bear.

"I do not believe you," Kevin replied coldly. "You have never made it this easy for us to find you."

"What makes you think I was trying to make it easy?" Nick said, looking at the bear over the top of his shades.

"You know that Henry can see everything you have done on his computer," the other bear informed him, his golden dollar sign chain swinging as he leaned closer to the fox. "Last webpage that you have visited had address on it. We arrive and can smell you from here."

Nick smiled at Raymond, not showing any signs of being intimidated by the gesture. "Then why didn't you come in and say 'hi'?"

"Because we know you are playing game," the bear snarled back, hooking an enormous claw towards the vehicle behind him. "Get in limousine."

"You know you never have to coerce me into getting in one of these bad boys, Raymond," Nick chirped, strolling around the pair of enormous predators like they were just objects, and not giant killing machines who work for a shrew that more than likely wanted Nick dead. "I could live in one."

"You could live in anything," Raymond flatly responded.

"Anything like rabbit burrow, apparently," Kevin added.

Nick's smile tapered, though his mask did not fall. "Tough crowd," he muttered playfully, climbing through the door that Raymond opened.

"I do not know why you have done this, Nicholas," Kevin began, landing next to the fox on the bench seat heavily, Raymond slamming the door closed for him. "You have grown too confident or you have now a death wish, I can not tell which."

Nick watched the other bear walk around the back of the vehicle until he lost sight of him. "Every dog has his day, Kevin."

"You have been very good at not having that day," Kevin observed, leaning forward to tap on the glass window that separated the driver's cab from the back. "I think maybe that you have hit your head."

"Oh, yeah?" he asked as the door to his right opened and Raymond flopped down next to him on his other side, closing him in between the two heavy bears.

"Yes," Kevin continued, settling back into his seat. "When I see you months ago, crawling in limousine with rabbit, I must confess my first thought was you wanted a private place."

"Wow," Nick rolled his eyes, no longer surprised by the perception other predators were getting from their friendship. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, pal," he finished sarcastically.

"I am not done," Kevin glared down at him. "I thought this because it would only be woman that could make you so stupid as to get caught in one of the limousines. It would seem that I was not all too far to truth, as I can smell you now."

Anticipating the comment, Nick clicked his tongue at the bear dismissively. "Wrong again," he hummed. "Our relationship isn't like that."

"You misunderstand. I am not far from truth as I am not wrong when thinking it was woman that made you stupid. I do not like you Nicholas-"

"Thanks, buddy," Nick cut him off bitterly.

"But I must respect mammal that can, how do you say, leave bears in dust for months," he finished, not breaking stride in Nick's interruption. "I am disappointed of this."

The limo lurched into motion, making Nick lean back into the seat as he took off his shades and ineffectively tried to clean the lenses with his soaked shirt. "The fact that you're disappointed fills my heart, Kevin," he mused. "It really does."

Raymond snorted at him, his brow never having relaxed from its dangerous furrow. "Whatever your game, Nicholas," he started with a hard edge to his tone. "Do me favor?"

"What's that?" Nick asked, smiling up at the bear in a tracksuit.

"Shut up."

Nick couldn't help himself but to laugh coldly at the toneless response. "Whatever you say, big guy," he smiled.

On the inside, Nick was not smiling. The restless feeling was back, and it brought with it the anticipation that ate its way through his fur. He glanced out of the tinted window, watching the rain drift across it at increasingly horizontal angles as they sped up towards the freeway that took them to Tundratown. Despite everything, he wasn't afraid, or at least, not by what you'd expect. Whatever Big had to say, Nick felt more sure of himself than he had ever felt before.

The only thing that made him pause was the building pit in his stomach that called out to him, making him regret not calling Judy just as soon as he returned to Zootopia. The rapidly vanishing warmth that radiated from his stomach was making him wish he had done more that take the edge off. Dying wasn't the scary thing, it was leaving something behind.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **So, this was supposed to be out two days ago. Can you believe it? Two chapters in a row where I almost take a week to finish each of them? So much for my lead on my schedule, I'm nearly** _ **behind**_ **! Anyway, I just wanted to say It's been a slog these past few chapters, and I really think it's starting to show. I wish it all came more naturally to me, but I guess we'll all have to deal with my apparent shortcomings when it comes to writing.  
**

 **Eh. Ignore all of that, let's talk about something cool. Some of you may remember me saying "I don't expect this story to ever get more than a dozen or so people following it." Well, I think it's pretty safe to say that I'm wrong now. Less than ten chapters in, and I hit** _ **one hundred**_ **people following. I honestly don't know what to say. If anything, it makes me even more worried I'm not doing a good job, but above that it's what motivates me to keep writing. If I was writing for myself, I guess I would just keep my fluffy stories bottled up in my head and maintain my macho demeanor, like I'm not secretly writing furry fanfiction on the sly.**

 **Really, this story would never have gotten off the ground if it wasn't for you guys. Every review is appreciated, and it bums me out when people leave one as a guest so I can't reply to them, and talk to them about the story. But don't worry, I take all of it to heart. I even take a look at every profile that follows my story, trying to get a grasp on how well I'm reaching out beyond just the die-hard members of the fandom, that read every submission. Sometimes it's daunting to see mine up there in people's small list of followed stories with some of the biggest names of the fandom, but I try my best to fit the shoes.**

 **As always, leave a review. I know this one is a pretty boring "down chapter," but the next two should be better. And the two after that will be better than that. It's my goal that every chapter is better than the last, and while I may not achieve it all the time, I do the best with what I'm given… That's a lie. I'm a lazy little shit sometimes. Here's this instead: I will try better to try my best with what I'm given. So, there.**


	11. You lied to me, Nicky

_6:41 pm, September 14th_

* * *

 _How anticlimactic_ , Nick thought as he turned the carrot pen around in his paw, squashing his muzzle with the arm he propped up on his knee. The frictionless whirring of the back tires broke the consistent noise of the rain in the cab with fluttering waves, the sleek limo not altering its position of being deathly still in the slightest. Nick blew a long raspberry in boredom, attempting to swing the pen around in his paw dexterously.

They had gotten stuck. After all of the relentless pursuits from the polar bears, through dark, stormy nights and heavy blizzards flurrying out of the climate wall, it was only now, when Nick willingly climbed right into the limo, did they get stuck in a pit of slush. _What a way to go_ , Nick thought as he shook his head absentmindedly. He could hear Raymond behind the limo, pushing the back in tandem with the driver's acceleration.

Tundratown was a mess when it rained as the climate wall did not have the power to freeze the falling water fast enough. The entire district became a slush bowl, the snow mixing with the showering water and the salt packed into the roads to create weather more formidable than the dead of winter. He had spent enough time crawling through the insulation tunnels below the district to know what _real_ cold felt like, but the salty slush water that coated the roads of Tundratown after it rained was infinitely more tedious.

"Hey, Kevin?" Nick spoke out to the still interior of the limo. "Do me a favor."

"No," Kevin deadpanned as he sat stock-still, staring straight ahead with a look of complete chagrin. He stayed behind while Raymond went out to get them unstuck so he could make sure Nick didn't try to escape, and he looked none too thrilled by the current situation.

Nick glanced up at the polar bear sitting next to him, cocking an eyebrow to go along with his lidded smirk. "You didn't even hear what the favor was."

"I do not need to hear favor," he replied, refusing to move any more muscles than it would take to speak. "I will not do it no matter what it is."

"Don't be like that, buddy," Nick said, rolling his eyes and leaning back into the seat. "I swear it isn't anything you'll have to work for. All I'm asking is for you to give something to Finnick."

That caught the bear's attention, as he turned his neck to glare down at the fox spitefully. "You expect me to do favor after what happened?"

Nick rolled his head around, glancing around the backseat of the limousine as he searched for an answer. "You're not still mad about that, are you?"

"You make it difficult to tell when you are just trying to be funny, fox," Kevin growled, his ears pulling back on his head. "I am very much ' _still mad_ ' about what happened."

"Come on, Kevin," he replied, glancing back over at the bear with attempted incredulity, though he knew full well he had a very good reason to still be mad. "Everyone else put all of that stuff behind them."

Kevin gave the fox a mixture of a snort and a growl, turning back to his position of staring straight ahead, though this time his scowl was even deeper. "You did not point gun at everyone else."

"It wasn't even loaded," Nick said, shrugging his shoulders and rolling his eyes as if the bear was overreacting. "I was just trying to get out of a tight spot, Kev. Trust me."

The bear cocked an eyebrow, but refused to turn to the fox next to him. Instead, he glared at the upholstery like it was the offending party. "You are asking me to trust the word of fox that works for Zootopia politsiya," he replied simply. "And, no, I do not believe you when you say gun was not loaded."

Nick clicked his tongue, glancing out the window to watch Raymond abandon his effort to talk to the driver, who Nick still had not seen. "You're like the brother I never had." He smiled, chattering his teeth playfully. "I could never hurt you."

"Bear can not have fox brother," he said before turning abruptly to glare at the fox with dark eyes. "Especially not _Wilde_ fox."

Scoffing at the comment, Nick leaned his head back against the seat where he had to look sideways at the bear next to him. "It's been sixty years since that happened, Kevin," he replied. "You can't hold that over my head."

Kevin met the fox's sideways observation with his own. "We do not forget transgressions as easily as you pointy-ears," he said, turning away from him to look out the window. "Foxes do not have the same loyalty to blood; we bears are proud of our kind."

Nick ignored the slant towards foxes to give Kevin a quizzical look, feigning interest as he snaked a paw behind his back. "What about Koslov?" he asked while arching his spine an unnoticeable degree. "He forgave me."

"Koslov is suka mama's boy," the bear replied. "His father was much stronger."

The fox's brow rose well above his dark shades as he sat straighter, turning his whole head to look at Kevin. "Hey," Nick snapped. "I learned most of my bookie skills working with Morris. You'd do good to work a little with him yourself."

Kevin shot a quick breath through his snout. "Funny," he replied. "Bears need not waste their strong bodies on accounting. Big's babushka take fighting spirit out of him. This is what happens when proud bear is raised by tiny shrew."

Taking off his sunglasses to show his narrowing emerald eyes, Nick watched him slowly turn just enough to look at the fox through the corner of one eye. "First you're talking trash about Morris, and now you're saying these things about 'ol Mama Big?" he said. "You sure you aren't in the wrong family, Kevin?"

"What are you to do?" he asked, tilting his snout upwards in Nick's direction. "Snitch?"

Nick glared at the hulking mass of muscle next to him for a time, giving up when he spotted Raymond move back towards the rear of the vehicle with a polyester strap. Strangely enough the bear also had a shot glass that he slammed back while passing the car window. The action did not fill him with confidence about his mysterious driver. Nick let out a long breath as he deflated back into the seat, wondering how Big's operation was even _operational_ , and how on earth these clowns struck fear into his heart for so long.

"If you won't do it because you're my friend," he said, attempting to rerail the conversation. "Why not as a last request?"

Kevin, who had taken to trying to get a look at what Raymond was doing by leaning as much as he could into the car limousine's window, turned to give Nick a indiscernible look. "You think Big plans to put you on ice?" he asked.

A low thump came from the back of the vehicle, causing both of the predator's ears to pivot in the direction, though not turning from their shared examination. "You don't think so?"

Shrugging, Kevin turned his head to look out the back window, his brow slamming down back into an irritated scowl when he saw nothing but the top of the open trunk. "If he wanted you dead," he said, sagging back into his position of staring at nothing in particular directly ahead. "We would have killed you the minute you were in limousine."

Nick jerked his head to the side in disagreement. "Big's got a thing for theatricality," he said as he glanced out his own window, finding everything he expected: soggy snow and a deluge of water. It would be a miracle if the city didn't flood at this point. "If we weren't on opposite ends of the criminal food-chain, I think we would have been thick as thieves. Point is, there's no reason he wouldn't want to be there when you put me under."

The bear made no visible reaction, though he did start to rotate his golden pinky ring with one of his massive paws. "I think world has finally fried your brain, Nicholas," he said flatly. "Most mammals are not so calm in the face of a perceived end."

Nick could help but cock an eyebrow so hard it shot straight past his shades onto his forehead. "Perceived, huh?" he replied. "I'll tell you what, just hold onto the thing I want you to give to Finnick, and if he doesn't kill me, I'll take it back. If he does, take it as a last request."

Finally, Kevin glanced over at the fox and looked him up and down. "What is thing you want the tiny mammal to have?"

Holding up the carrot pen he had kept in his paw the entire time, waving it about and pointing at it with his free paw, Nick tilted his head towards it. "You see this pen?"

"You have been fondling pen like baby's bottle for fifteen minutes," Kevin said, his gaze trading Nick's shades for the pen and back again. "Yes, I have seen pen."

"Well, buddy, this is it," Nick said, shrugging his shoulders and flipping the pen into the air for himself to catch in a show of its weight. "Barely as big as one of your claws. I doubt it'll be such a burden that you can't look after it for as long as it takes for Big to make up his mind about my fate."

Kevin snorted at him, turning back to stare blankly ahead. "A useless request. You will talk your way back to his good graces… again."

Scoffing at the bear, he brought the pen back closer to his chest. "What do you call the target on the back of my head for months, or right after you found us in the limo?"

The bear gave Nick a passing glance. "If he has asked you to come, he wants to listen," he replied. "My dreams of fox-sicle are already ruined."

Nick shook his head slowly, his expression unreadable behind his dark shades. "Okay," he said, sticking his paw behind his back. "How about this?" He brought out one of the other pens, still packaged neatly in its clamshell plastic covering. The fish pen stood out a against the bright packaging, being a sandy dark blue. Kevin cocked an eyebrow at the cheap looking novelty, peering back over at Nick's blank face.

Hovering his clawed thumb over the 'Try me!' sticker, he stuck his pad into the button that looked like a patch of scales. A scratching electronic noise crackled through the still limousine, making Kevin splay his ears back and glare at the electronic. _"Koslov is suka mama's boy. His father was much stronger."_ Kevin's distorted voice rung true, solidifying the bears expression into distinct ferocity."Why don't you hold onto it as a _friendly_ favor?" Nick asked with a creeping smile.

Kevin shot his vision from the pen to Nick rapidly, his face widening slowly. Suddenly, his expression fell, his dark eyes turning harsh as he scowled deeply and tensed. "You do have death wish," he said, barring his teeth. In an instant, Kevin lunged.

Nick was too fast for him, though, having anticipating the move. He jumped back as far as he could go and flat against the car door, giving the bear a toothy smile. "Ah, ah, ah!" he sung, waving his finger at him. Instead of continuing his playful demeanor, Nick softened his smile at the bear, relaxing against the car door and taking off his sunglasses to look at him. "Do me a solid here, Kevin. I _need_ this."

Straightening up from his martial position, Kevin shook his sweatshirt by the collar to fix the disarrangement caused by the swift movement. "That sounds a lot like begging, Nicholas," he said with little tell in his voice that he just tried to gut the fox. "What has little rabbit done to you?"

A dull smile creeped its way over Nick's face, revealing the sharp teeth underneath his lips. "Would you believe me if I told you all she did was treat me like I wasn't just a fox?"

Kevin gave him a hard glare, frowning at him for several moments of silence. Seemingly satisfied, though not content, in his gauging observation, he shook his head slowly and returned to staring blankly ahead. "These are the things that make me not respect you."

Both of their attention was captured by a loud snapping sound from behind the limousine, followed by a muffled roar from Raymond. _"Der'mo!"_ he bellowed loudly enough for the two predators in the back seat to clearly hear him. _"Schas po ebalu poluchish, suka, blyad!"_ The outburst clearly filled to the brim with expletives, since Nick could only pick out the curses, was followed by the limo being nudged slightly forward with a heavy thud, as Raymond had kicked the bumper in frustration.

The bear sitting next to Nick looked dejectedly at his knees, slouching where he sat and running a paw over his ears to flatten them. He let out a long sigh as he shook his head. Nick glanced around the limo without moving any of his muscles in anticipation, trying to determine if the other bear was going to have another outburst. _These are the mammals that tried to kill me_ , he thought. _No wonder I lasted so long_.

"Just that, huh?" Nick said, perking his ears as he was still listening for Raymond. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, I'm sorry for pointing a gun at you. I know you don't believe me when I say it wasn't loaded, but it's the truth. I don't hurt people, that's just not something that I do." Tearing open the plastic clamshell, the fox presented the fish pen in the air at Kevin, capturing his attention.

"I made her a promise," Nick said, continuing his speech with a last-ditch effort to convince him. "And it's that I'm done with this life." He clicked the record button twice, holding it down the second time, erasing the recording that it held. Carefully, the fox moved closer to the bear and handed him the clamshell, pointing at the instructions that clearly detailed the recording process, including the fact that recording anything else would erase the previous audio file. "This isn't me hustling or blackmailing you, this is me asking." He went on, holding up the carrot pen with his message for Judy towards the bear. "Would you hold onto this, and if I don't come out of that room, give it to Finnick?"

Kevin looked between the plastic packaging and Nick, reading the instructions with mild interest as he gauged the legitimacy of the offering. He considered the device for some time. Gingerly, he took the pen between two claws, holding it up to his face to look at it more closely, as if he was appraising it."Answer question," he said as he turned his gaze back to the fox.

"You have the floor," Nick replied, waving his paw in front of himself. His eyes trailed off Kevin as he saw Raymond walking away from the limo, though the bear talking to him could not tell he was looking away behind his shades.

"This has message for bunny, yes?" Kevin asked, oblivious to the fact that Raymond was grabbing onto a stop sign threateningly.

Nick frowned when he saw Raymond snap the sign clear off the pole, holding the red octagon in his paws triumphantly and waving it at the driver's window. He was saying something to the driver that Nick could not decipher when he replied to Kevin. "That is correct," he said absentmindedly, watching Raymond disappeared back behind the limo.

"When tiny fennec gets message from me, and rabbit finds you have vanished, where do you think she is going to go?" he asked.

Nick's attention snapped back to Kevin, his mind drawing a blank at his words. "What?"

"If rabbit sees you as good friend, enough to rub herself all over you, what do you think she will do when she receives message?" He repeated himself, cocking an eyebrow at the fox. "Do you think she will not put pieces together about what happened to you?"

Nick stared at the bear long enough for another crunch to come from behind them, followed by Raymond yelling something that was obscured by the heavy rain. The limousine lurched into motion, rattling for a second before jumping into the air as it finally caught traction and rolled out of its trap. _"Opa!"_ Raymond bellowed from outside the vehicle, clapping his massive paws together.

The enormous polar bear sauntered past the back window, coming to a stop by the driver's side and leaning his head in. When he straightened out, he held a full shot glass out in front of him with a wide, toothy smile down at the driver. The bear panicked as he saw his vodka being splashed out of the glass and hurriedly slammed it down. Pulling back, he convulsed in amusement at his own actions, saying something down at the driver before mimicking a toast with an empty glass.

Soon enough he waddled back over to his side, and plopped down next to Nick, still sitting in thought. "What are you two talking about," he slurred, shutting the door.

Kevin sneered at his fellow polar bear, obviously irked by his behavior. "I am reminding fox about time I slashed his back as he ran away."

"Good time to remember," Raymond responded as he nodded his head with pursed lips. "We had to follow trail of blood across Rainforest District until steamer trees and sprinklers distort scent too much."

"Yes, I think Nicholas lost so much blood he almost died by the time we gave up hunt," he replied with a dry chuckle. "But that's just what happens when tiny mammal comes looking for trouble with bears," Kevin murmured with a certain ambiguity, glancing down at the fox that met his hard gaze.

Nick could only stare back blankly as the pair of polar bears started into a fit of dark mirth, Raymond's humorous reminiscence sounding oblivious to Kevin's darker edge. Turning his muzzle down to look at his lap, Nick uncomfortably weaved his fingers together, picking at himself in a nervous tick with his claws. Kevin was right. He had doomed her. If Big killed him and Judy found out, it would only be a matter of time before the cold shrew decided she was too much of a risk herself.

A fresh thrash of rain waved itself over the metal exterior of the limo, pulling Nick into a trance of worry. He made the wrong move. He bluffed even when he knew Big had a stronger hand, and the shrew was calling him now. A lot more road on this meeting than Nick liked. In fact, he couldn't stand for it. Now was the time to think about escaping, as it wouldn't be that difficult to get out of the paws of a drunken oaf and a distracted musclehead too proud for his own good.

 _No_ , Nick thought, pulling his ears back against his head and curving his lips into a frown. _No more running. I can do this. He's just a mammal, and I can talk my way out of this. I always do_. Tilting his snout upwards, he glanced out into the storm, the flurries of snow drifting off of the climate wall mixing with the falling water to create a breeze of evening light reflecting off the water. The buildings shed their fluffy coating of snowflakes for the flow of water, the sides of roofs looking like the faces of mountains with rivers running their lengths.

He couldn't help but wonder again what Judy was doing at this moment. Maybe she was still seeing the same rain, watching the storm with a passive observation of its angry downpour. _The world just keeps on spinning_ , he repeated her words in his head, tracing droplets of water the best he could before they disappeared from his sight. Nick pulled his glasses off, the evening light quickly diminishing behind the heavy clouds making it dark enough for his sensitive eyes. I guess if it's all trivial, this will be no problem.

Nick occupied himself by cleaning the lenses of his shades before replacing them into his shirt pocket. They would be upon the Big mansion soon enough, if the quickly emptying roadside had anything to say about it. The fact that the Big mansion was backed up against the base of one of the mountains had been a point of strategic disadvantage for Nick. If it came down to his life, running would not be easy. Big's bears could catch up with him faster than he could run in any direction, but he had something the rest of Big's victims didn't. A plan if it came to the hole in the ice.

Much to Nick's disappointment, it didn't take them long to reach the gothic structure, the more modern half-timbering and diamond windows accentuating the building's character, though most of it was buried in sloping piles of slush and ice. The limo passed slowly between a cobblestone wall, a polar bear in a suit standing guard with a chain letting them pass.

The vehicle pulled up alongside a smaller door in the side of the structure, circumventing a massive timber awning framing the front entrance with cobble pillars and extravagant wooden rafters. A number of polar bears stood stiffly in their pressed suits, glaring at the limousine as it passed. Most of them had their paws either behind their backs or in their suits, making Nick wonder just how many guns were being carried around the property. The odds of him winning with nothing but a bluff was quickly dwindling.

Without warning, Nick was picked up by the scruff of his neck just as the vehicle came to a skidding halt on the wet black ice. The pinching feeling on the top his his spine sent out shivering wave of pins and needles, almost instantly giving the fox the impression of his body falling asleep. He sneered at Kevin as he effortlessly lifted the red fox out of the car and into the rain, dropping him onto the cold pavement without warning.

Nick flailed in the air as he dropped, the release of his neck spurring an avalanche of built-up movement pouring out all at once. He was just able to catch himself on the door handle, stumbling into an uneasy balance before Kevin pushed him again, this time out further away from the limousine so he could get out himself. Nick ran his paw over the back of his neck, combing his claws down the length past his collar to fix the nap that Kevin's harsh handling ruffled.

An umbrella opened up above him as Kevin shifted his weight off of the bench seat and onto his hind paws, straightening out so that no water was able to get on his tracksuit. Tilting his snout up and behind him, Nick watched the bear shut the door and peer down at the fox, jerking his head to the side silently for Nick to lead the way. _Too late to run now_ , he thought, glancing back over to the side door that was now open, another polar bear standing menacingly behind the precipice.

It was only marginally warmer inside, the dark, stained oak and cobblestone giving the false impression of warmth. In reality, it was just a couple degrees above freezing, but the housekeepers made a point of keeping up the facade of warmth with small candles and tricks of color. This was only the front rooms, though. That fact was plainly obvious when Nick was ushered into Big's private office, which stood even chillier, being only a couple degree _below_ zero.

There was little way of calling the office anything more than intimidating. Thick frost and snow blanketed every surface that wasn't painstakingly dusted by the staff, and shimmering, rich blue icicles hung like razors from every available ledge. An almost forgotten mantel frame a fireplace, the wood in which had not moved in all of the years Nick had known Big. The very familiar logs had been a constant, always mocking the mammals suffering from the onset of hypothermia while talking to the mob boss.

Two bears already stood flanking the desk, watching Nick's movements as he made his way into the center of the room, coming to a stop just above the secret platform beneath the rug. He could feel the draft as he dug his pads into the rough patterned rug, the cold nipping at him from the hollow compartment below. He could feel the wood bow as he shifted his weight. The water underneath the wood wasn't just cold, and it wasn't just freezing, it was _sub-zero_. Big salted the water to allow the temperature to hover several degrees below _zero_ without freezing.

Nick felt, more than heard, the two polar bears take their positions on each of his flanks, crossing their paws together in front of them and bowing their heads in respect. It was time to wait. Another one of Big's tactics was to make the mammals that came into his office sweat a little bit, or in this case develope some frostbite, before coming in to talk with them. It wasn't unusual for Nick to have to wait upwards of thirty minutes for the shrew, polar bears standing stock-still like statues around him. Hopefully, he had more pressing matters and wanted to get this over with. _Or not so hopefully_ , Nick thought.

He was idly watching his breath billow out of his maw, shaping itself with the draft of the small room, when he heard the familiar claw-tapping steps of polar bears walking down a cobble hallway. There was no denying he was nervous, what sane mammal wouldn't be? He should have called her as soon as he got back in town. All of this just to face Big on his own, with the very real possibility of him not appreciating the circumstances. He'd be lying if he said he didn't really except this. After all, there's only one way a life of disrepute can go.

The door swung open, a bear in a pressed suit with a maroon tie walked through boredly, not really paying any attention to the fox standing in the middle of the room as he fixed his jacket. He came to a stop, weaving his paws behind his back and glared down at the fox from across the room as another bear, identical in dress, walked through the same door. This one made his way to the far side of the room before straightening his stance towards the fox, also giving Nick an analyzing stare.

The two held their unblinking attitude as another bear walked through the door, but, much to Nick's surprise, the mammal carrying Big wasn't Koslov. This polar bear was much shorter, carrying himself more like a soldier than the underboss himself. The only difference between him and the rest of them was a pair of golden studs in his ears and a golden tie stud in the shape of a bear paw. He made his way behind the desk, only looking at Nick when he turned in his direction to sit in the chair.

Flopping down into the red velvet chair, he pushed his paws up to the end of the desk and turned Big around in his tilt-swivel office chair, until the little shrew was staring at Nick blanky, lounging back into his seat. He sat there without saying anything for some time, just looking at the fox, one arm raised into the air as he rubbed his claws together absentmindedly. His black, pinstripe three-piece suit was nowhere near as formal as the suit he wore to the wedding, but it packed a punch in conveying the type of mammal he was. The room was eerily silent, the only noise was the soft pattering of the rain against the windows hidden behind closed blinds.

Nick lifted his paw to begin, but cut himself off when Big raised his paw into the air to silence him. The fox deflated when Big waved for the polar bear behind him to lean in. He whispered something that Nick couldn't hear into the bear's ear, waving him away when he was done. Nick watched the bear stand up, buttoning the top of his jacket as he gave Nick rigid glare before turning and leaving the room without saying a word.

Big had returned to watching Nick impassively, staring at the fox with an unreadable expression. The red fox waited for another moment of silence to pass before beginning. "Mr. Big, sir," he said, clasping his paws together respectfully and taking a step towards the desk. "I'm glad we could meet so soon."

Nick glanced around the room, looking each of the polar bears in the eyes before turning back to the shrew with a wary smile. "Before we get started, I was just wondering if you have any daughters that I'm not aware of getting married today? I already crashed one wedding, and I don't like my chances at two."

Apparently, Big did not find that little joke particularly funny, as all he did was pause in his action of rubbing his claws together and raise an eyebrow slightly at the fox. "I'd like to know where we stand, Mr. Big." Nick went on, wincing at the failure of his attempt at levity. "It's kinda difficult for me to negotiate when I'm in the dark about which way you're currently leaning."

"Negotiate…" Big drew out, tilting his head to the side with a look of incredulity. "Nicky, you're not in much of a position to _negotiate_ ," he said, gesturing at him with the paw he had hanging in the air. Big shifted in his seat, pulling himself up to sit straighter while looking at the fox. "Is it true, what your excitable friend has told me?"

Nick blinked at the shrew, taking the question as a cue for a very no-nonsense discussion. "Yes," he replied, nodding his head.

Big shook his head slowly before turning to meet his paw that he ran down the length of his hair. His movements were slow, deliberate. He was doing it on purpose, Nick knew, but it didn't make it any less nerve racking. "You disappoint me, Nicky," he said with a sigh. "To have such a close friend turn against me in this time of strife, it breaks my heart."

"You knew I was working with Carrots," Nick replied, pulling his paws apart to hang loosely at his sides and furrowing his brow at the rabbit. "Don't pretend you didn't at least suspect something like this."

The shrew seemed to consider Nick's words for a moment, raising his brow slightly so he could see the fox past his enormous eyebrows. "Contrary to what the animals of this city think," he said, starting in a slow tone and then ramping up his speech with increasing indignation. "I have found in my time alive that foxes are can be exceptionally loyal to their family, and the Wildes have shown an _unwavering_ loyalty to _my_ family since before I was born."

Big clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, pulling his lips up in a display of razor-sharp teeth. "When you told me that you were only helping with one case, I took you for your word," he said, practically spitting the words out before settling back into a relaxed position and softening his voice. "Now, I only grieve when I hear the name Wilde. I fear our family's intimacy was nothing more than shared interests, when seeing the past through unclouded eyes."

Shaking his head, Nick put his paws on his chest pleadingly. "That was then, and this is now. Nothing has changed, as I told you the truth when I said I was only working with them on one case." He threw both of his paws towards Big and shrugging his shoulders. "It's as true today as it was when I said it."

Big only sneered at him, his snout creasing as his brows hung low. "Have you told them about me, my operation, or any of my friends?"

Nick shook his head. "No."

"If they asked - if _she_ asked - would you?"

Nick balked at the small rodent, his maw opening and shutting several times with answers that seemed to die at the end of his tongue. He knew what the proper answer to that was, and it wasn't 'yes', but he could not shake the feeling that lying to him in this situation would be the right thing to do. It seemed more like just another way of running from the problem, and his resolve not to run was beginning to eat away at every sensibility he held responsible for keeping him alive. The word rolled off his tongue before he could stop it, dragging him down in just a single utterance. "Yes."

"Then I am sorry," he said, shaking his head and dropping his raised arm onto the chair's rest, "because you leave me no other choice." Big claws dug into the rodent busts on the end of the armrests of his chair, sending out small scratching noises that made Nick's ears twitch as his frown deepened. "Ice him!" Big hissed, pulling himself forward as he dug his claws into the wood.

Long ears splayed to the back of Nick's head, his center of gravity lowering almost all the way to the ground as he was grabbed by the nape by Raymond. Kevin stood still, watching as Raymond pulled him off the rug for the other bear to rip the carpet from the floor, revealing the wooden platform underneath. "Wait!" Nick begged, pulling his hind paws up closer to himself as the other bear pulled the wood out of the way, a wall of air so cold it made his fur bristle flowing upwards at him.

Nick looked into the deep, cold water with wide eyes, snapping his head back up to look at Big. "Let me say my piece!" He continued, pulling his tail up and holding it in front of him with both paws. "I practically turned myself in when you sent out the word! Doesn't that count for something?"

Big let out an exasperated breath through his snout, holding his hand in the air to stop Raymond as he held Nick just over the frigid water. "Nicky, you lied to me," he said, leaning his body to the side as he propped up his elbow again. "You lied to my family, and you did it during my daughter's wedding."

Scoffing, Nick shot a glare behind him at Kevin, who was passively observing the activity going on. "I told you I was speaking the truth!" Nick replied, turning back to look at Big and placing one of his paws on his chest.

"How true it was back then does not change the now, my friend," Big retorted as he started scraping his claws together again. "I regret that it had to turn out like this, truly, but you embody a significant threat to what I do. You're here now, and from past experiences I know I will not _have_ you again." The small shrew shrugged, rolling his head around in consideration. "I'm sorry, Nicky. You made the wrong move."

 _You don't have to rub it in_ , Nick thought to himself, narrowing his eyes at the rodent in front of him. It wasn't lost on him that he really didn't have much of a choice in what he did. The only other things he could have done in this situation was run, refuse Bogo's offer, or both. This seemed, at least at the time of making the decision, the only right way. "No," he replied with an edge, shaking his head without breaking eye-contact. "I did what was right."

Big raised a brow at the red fox dangling by the nape of his neck over his gelid pool. "You see that from where you're hanging?"

"I did it for the right reasons," Nick replied, defending his actions when he knew Big had already made up his mind. "I'm retiring, getting out of this life for good. I came here today to square away my debts, and if the price I have to pay is this, I have already made my peace with it."

Big tilted his head to the side again, peering over at the fox with narrow eyes. "Do you have any last words?" he asked, waving a paw around the room.

Nick glanced down into the cold, dark water. He could feel how cold it was with the tips of his toes, and the unmistakable smell of saltwater wafted upwards into his nose. "Tell Fru Fru I skipped town," he said, never taking his eyes off of the icy water. "Say I came here for my savings, and took the first train out west. Make sure she understands that I left to be a con-mammal somewhere else, taking a new name and everything.

Turning to look at Kevin, Nick addressed the polar bear directly. "Destroy the pen," he mumbled quietly, looking the intimidating polar bear dead in the eye, though he gave no reaction. "You were right, and I can't let her do that. She has to think it was all a big joke, just another hustle." He looked back into the water for a second. That's the only way she'll be safe," he murmured under his breath, a blank expression not leaving his face as he snaked his paws behind his back. "Take these, too." He finished, tossing Kevin the fish pen and the still packaged carrot.

Big seemed interested by the exchange, so much so that he seemed to hesitate in completing the task. "Is that everything?" he asked slowly, giving Kevin a questioning glance.

Nick nodded. "Tell Finnick no funeral. No bouquet. Give him the same story you gave Fru Fru. I know he won't believe it, but it's not for him. Just make sure he spins a good tale for Carrots. I want to roll over in the ice at how bad a mammal he makes me out to be."

Considering all that was asked of him, Big seemed to find it agreeable enough to purse his lips and bob his head slightly. "Consider it done," he said, giving Nick one final wave. "Goodbye."

Nick felt himself falling, the polar bears grip gone from his neck. It was a split second of weightlessness, and, much to Nick's surprise, it didn't feel so bad. The part he didn't like was the sinking feeling that came just before the fall, sending him straight towards the icy water below. He sprung into action just as he was about to break the water, holding shut his nose and maw to protect himself from sucking in water with a cold shock response. The last thing he wanted to do was suck any of the water in.

The break through the surface was the hardest part, with the immediate feeling like you're out of oxygen, desperately foundering for the tiniest bit of air. If it wasn't for holding his maw shut, he would have sucked in enough water to kill him, as his lungs felt like they were dying. The cold shock was only the first phase, as the frigid water snaked its way through his fur, covering him completely as he sank below the surface. For a moment, it was like everything stood still, like the world came to a halt as Nick pieced together what was happening around him. Finally, he was able to take his paws away from his muzzle so he could swim.

Nick broke the surface just as the board was slammed back down into place, followed by the rug to completely block out all available light. It was pitch black as Nick bobbed on the surface, looking around for anything he could use to get out. The glacial water did little to keep him focused on the task at had, as it seemed to suck the life out of him by the second. Nick shook his head, dislodging the water that made its way into his ear canal so he could hear once again.

" _What pen?"_ Nick could hear Big ask Kevin up above, though it was muffled far too much for him to care, and he certainly didn't have time anyway. He made a point of remaining silent as he paddled his way over to the ice wall of the hole, feeling around for anything sharp or metal.

" _Fox gave me pen with microphone to give to the fennec if you put him on ice,"_ Kevin replied, stepping over the platform with a series of thumps above the calm red fox.

Finally, Nick found what he was looking for, the iron casing built around the pool. Most up it was frozen solid behind several inches of ice, but the saltwater had a way of making the bits that were exposed a little weaker. Nick pawed around the edges of the metal, looking for piece that he would have a chance of pulling off. It was taking time that he didn't have, but there was nothing he could do about it. Pulling a jagged piece of metal free from the ice wall and holding it up close to his face so he could inspect it, Nick could tell it was sufficient enough for what he needed it for.

He didn't have much time, as he started to shake uncontrollably with the early onset of hypothermia. It seemed like it was getting darker the longer he was down here, and he had to kick in the water to keep himself afloat as his limbs started to feel like lead. Technically, he had about fifteen minutes before it was fatal, or, at least, that's the number he came up with during his time training in the Tundratown bay for just such an occasion. Nick was now thanking the paranoid, be-prepared-for-anything fox like it was going out of style.

The tips of his fingers started tingling as the feeling vacated them. _Maybe less than fifteen_ , he though, sticking the jagged piece of metal into his maw to free his paws, tasting the rust and saltwater. _I was fatter back then. I've lost a lot of weight_. Nick began evening out his breathing, taking longer and longer intakes as he prepared himself for the plunge. Nick could hear the whirring of some kind of electronic, though his mind was too focused on staying alive to notice it. _"Hey, Carrots, it's me… Nick. You know, as confident as I was about recording this thing, I don't actually_ -" The rest of his recording was cut from his perception as he dived down under the surface.

The world was enveloped in nothing but cold. He couldn't see, couldn't hear, all he could do was feel around in the dark, floating in a void of freezing water. He could not see the ice walls only feet away, only darkness. It made him feel like he was in another one of his nightmares, only this time, he wouldn't wake up if he failed. He was turning himself around, trying to swim towards the bottom of the pool only to find himself twisting around like a gyroscope in his panic. Nick cursed himself, pushing back to the surface to try again. When he broke the surface this time, the recording of his own voice was still playing.

" _-how much energy I've put into staying alive,"_ it said, though Nick could only barely decipher it through his waterlogged ears. He evened out his breath again, taking longer breaths every time. He wouldn't have very many tries, as the loss of his motor skills in this situation was just as fatal as death itself, and he gave himself another four minutes before he was useless. _"It's just this time I feel like I've got unfinished business, like I don't want to leave. I'm glad-"_

He was below the surface again, this time guiding himself down to the bottom by placing a paw on the ice wall next to him. He was starting to ache, but he couldn't relent. He had to push harder. Getting out of this grave was only the first step, then he'd have to get away from Big's army of goons. Finally reaching the bottom of the pool, Nick found what he hoped was his salvation; an insulating tunnel. Tundratown would just be a big soggy mess if it wasn't for them. They cooled the ground enough for the snow to stick, and they also happen to be an enormous network of tunnels that funneled blizzards through to surface vents to be shot up into the air.

Nick pawed the frigid steel, feeling around in the dark for a control box that he knew was there. It also happened to be the thing cooling the water he was just in, so every moment he had his hand on the outer casing of the tunnel increased the chance of frostbite significantly. The back of his paw brushed up against a metal box, exciting Nick as much as he could be in this situation, only to find out that the box had frozen shut. Nick took the metal out of his maw and started chipping away at the feeling in his paws were getting so bad he was having a hard time telling if he was even still holding the metal.

A muffled clink slithered its way through the water as something snapped in his hand. Grabbing hold of the metal with both paws and running his fingers over the length, he found it broken to the point of unusability. He was running out of time, so he tossed the metal aside to dig into the ice with his claws, but wasn't making the progress he so desperately needed. In a last ditch effort, he took hold of the lip of the box's door and planted his feet against the arctic insulation tunnel, preparing to use every last bit of muscle he had left to pry it open.

He shifted his stance to ready his exertion. Nick's vision was spotting behind the endless blackness, and his lungs were starting to burn. Pushing into the tunnel with his hind paws and pulling with his arms, he felt the metal creak underneath him before an unmistakable crack shot Nick upwards into the water when the door gave way, chunks of ice and metal floating in every direction, but he did not return to the control box. Instead he swam back up to the surface to sate his screaming lungs. He had two move dives in him. It's a good thing he only needed one.

Breaking the surface, Nick was immediately blinded by light as he gasped for air, bringing a paw up out of the water to shield his eyes. The next thing he knew Nick was being lifted out of the water by the nape of the neck, and harshly thrown back down onto the cobble floor. Spending a few seconds coughing and sputtering on the floor, he rubbed his eyes at the light before looking back up at the desk. Big just sat there, staring at him. Nick turned again to see Kevin move back next to Raymond, having been the one to pull Nick out of the water.

The other bear in the suit shoved the wooden platform back into place, throwing the rug over it in a rehearsed movement. "Why hasn't any one of my friends in the ZPD told me you are a police informant?" Big asked, breaking the silence of the room and causing the fox to turn and look at him. "Why do I have to hear it from Finnick after you, no doubt, sent him to me?"

Nick could barely see, his vision seemed to whitewash with the soul-sucking cold that radiated off of his clothes and fur. "W-what?" he asked, blinking again and shaking his head to dislodge the water in his ears.

Big leaned forward in his chair, glaring at the fox. "Answer the question."

Placing a paw over his chest as he remained on his knees, Nick closed his eyes to steady his breathing. "R-records is-s-ssue," he choked out, his teeth chattering together. "It-t's supposed to come through the system in a c-couple days."

The screw raised an eyebrow at Nick, giving him a wry expression. "You tell me the truth when I ask you if you'd stab me in the back, but you'll lie to me when I ask such a simple question?" he said, seeming to consider the implications of such behavior as he shook his head. "I'm starting to pick up a consistent theme here, Nicky, and I have to tell you I am a little confused."

"What would you like me to-" Nick got cut off by a sputtering cough that gripped his chest, shaking his cold body and sending drops of water around him. "What would you like me to clear up?" He finished, giving Big a toothy smile.

"I'm afraid clarity is not the issue here," he replied, gesturing with the paw he had hanging in the air. "I find myself stuck on the _why_."

Nick chuckled humorlessly, shaking his tail around to return some of the bush that had been flattened by his dip in the pool. "I've done a lot of things that would warrant someone asking me why," he said, straightening out and pushing off the ground. His steady breathing allowed him to concentrate on keeping his teeth from chattering and suppressing a shiver that threatened to shake him to pieces. "You may have to be more specific."

Big seemed to consider the fox for a time, halting his activity of scraping his claws together to give Nick an unflinching gaze. "Nicky, I do not need my bears here to tell me that you smell like a rabbit, as I can smell it from all the way over here," he replied, wrinkling his snout for effect. "You get Finnick to tell me you lied to me, you practically give yourself up, you come in here talking about retiring, and then your final words is in the name of protecting a rabbit cop, no less."

Nick snorted, compressing the pads of his paws into his arm and forcing the water out with the pressure of running it down the length of his exposed fur. "She's also the godmother to your granddaughter, if you forgot."

Seemingly annoyed by the mention of that fact, Big tilted his head to look away from Nick, exhaling an exaggerated breath with a cloud of vapor from his snout. "Yes, well, my daughter has been known to be rather ostentatious," he said. "I confess I am still trying to come up with a diplomatic way to change her mind about that little fact."

Amused, Nick wrung out the piece of his brightly colored Hawaiian shirt that he could without taking it off, and shook his hind paws free of more water. He walked out of a frigid puddle that had developed below the fox on the cobblestone, strolling around to one side of the room. "I guess we have something in common, then."

Big sneered at him. "Are you going to answer my question, or would you like me to dunk you back in the pool to wake you up?"

Nick only shrugged from the other side of the room, talking the whole situation in stride, almost as if he wasn't just at the brink of releasing an emergency pressure valve right underneath the shrew's paws. "She convinced me to go straight, or, I guess, I convinced myself to go straight just by being around her."

"You?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Go straight? Are we talking about the same fox? I don't think I have known you to do what a normal mammal would _ever_ , let alone enough to make me think you can even hold genuine employment."

Nick smiled at the arctic shrew. "I'm adaptable."

Snorting, Big reclined back into his chain. "If nothing else," he mumbled, watching Nick stick one of his fingers in his ear and twist it about.

This was technically going better than Nick expected, though not by much. He would still have to play his cards right to stay out of the icy death-trap. However, the fact that Big had called for him to be pulled out was a good sign, if a little irritating. He would have rather not been in that water at all. "Look, I just want to do right by her," he said, gesturing with one of his paws. "She deserves that."

"So it's all about the rabbit?"

"Yes - No - It doesn't matter," Nick replied indecisively, his facial expression changing with every change of mind. "I just want out."

Big considered the fox in front of him for a long moment, looking up and down his dripping form. "What do you want from me, Nicky?"

Nick clasped his paws together and took a few steps towards the shrew. "Just give me a chance."

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence, the only noise being the deep breathing of the larger mammals around them and Big's incessant scraping of his claws. The shrew took a slow glance around the room with his eyes, observing the polar bears around him while he was deep in thought. Finally, he shifted his stance in his seat to lean heavily into one of the chair's arms while he waves one paw through the air. "Leave us," he said with a commanding voice.

One of the bears flanking the desk furrowed his brow as he tore his constant glare from the fox, looking at his boss, perplexed. "But-"

Big held up a paw to stop the bear's protest. "Now. He's not going to do anything here, and if he does..." Big rolled his head around before giving his hench-mammal an undecidable look. "You know who to pay a visit."

Nick's fur bristled despite the heavy coating of water at the shrew's threat. His mask did not falter, though, as he continued to watch the mob boss with lidded eyes. "We will be right outside," his bear said, giving Nick the hardest glare yet.

They all filed out of the cold office silently, giving Nick passing threats with their dark eyes as they did. Kevin sat the three pens down on Big's desk, nodding at Nick before filling out with the rest of his goons. When they were gone the room settled into silence, Big continuing his stoic observation of the fox in front of him. After some time, Big waved his paw out in front of himself, arcing it around his body slowly. "Here is your chance, my friend," he said. "Pray that you can sway my cold heart."

He took another step towards the desk pleadingly. "Let me square away our debts," he said. "Have you out of our lives for good."

"Our?" Big asked, raising an eyebrow. "You think I hold the bunny to a debt?"

"I don't think, I _know_ ," Nick replied. "I know you, Big, and doing Carrots a favor isn't in your character. It never mattered to you how many mammals in the force you had at your beck and call, you always wanted more." Abandoning his contented demeanor, Nick tilted his snout down to glare at Big through his brow. "It's not going to happen with her."

Big leaned back into his chair and propped his chin up on his elbow. "What makes you so sure?"

"She isn't like all of the other mammals you've got under your thumb," he said, waving his paw out behind him, like said crooked cops were standing right there. "She _turned in_ her badge for making _one_ mistake. Do you really think she'll do anything less than career suicide if you call in your favor? Let me pay it. She is of no use to you."

"Oh, Nicky," Big replied, sighing heavily. "Everyone is of use to me; you just have to know where to squeeze." The shrew made a slow appraisal of the predator, sinking his eyes all the way to his hind paws and then back up again. "Right now, I am thinking I could probably get her to do a lot by threatening you." Nick's expression pulled back into a blank stare, his ears pivoting slightly behind himself. Big seemed to find the change in posture amusing, as his sharp teeth peeked out from behind his crooked smile.

"You see it now, don't you?" Big asked, letting out a small chortle. "That you've made the wrong move?" The pair glared at each other from across the room for moment before Big continued. "I have to say: I am a little bit disappointed in you. The bunny has turned you into an idealist, and filled your eyes with daydreams of misguided reformation. You're tilting at windmills. You say you are doing all of these things in the woefully undisguised name of your rabbit, but I do not think you know what they mean."

"You're wrong," Nick said pointedly. "I know more than anyone what it takes to leave it all behind."

"This is why I am saying you do not know what you are doing, Nicky," he replied, shaking his head. "You have done nothing but leave it all behind your entire life. Now this starry-eyed woman comes along and you're leaving everything behind again, only this time you're giving it up for something you don't think you _can_ leave. I am telling you this as someone who cares, Nicky. You need to come back to reality; you're a fox and she's a rabbit. You're _better off_ alone."

"I'm better off alone?" Nick blustered, furrowing his brow at the arctic shrew dangerously. "Big, if that's true, I never want to be better again. I've spent twenty years alone. I'm tired. I'm tired because I haven't been leaving it all behind. I've been holding onto the only thing I knew how to do, holding onto a life that I'm scared of leaving. I've been holding onto too much. This time, I'm going to do it the right way. I'm going to start over, but I can't do that when I owe you what I do."

Big ran a paw over the top of his head, slicking down the greased fur. Scratching the underside of his chin, Big pursed his lips as he stared at Nick in thought, allowing the room to fall back into an uneasy silence. He glanced behind himself, looking over the portrait of his grandmother sitting in a sloping pile of snow on the mantel. A fresh rose was sat across the base, flanked on either side by rose-colored candles.

"You know, your grandfather came to Gram-mama's funeral," he said, looking at the portrait intently. "I didn't know what to think when he walked through the door, but he assured me he was just there to pay his respects to a great woman." Big turned back to recline into the chair and glare at Nick. "I asked him what I should do, as I had bears out in the city that very moment looking for you. Do you know what he told me? He said that I should do whatever felt right. That was the last time he was in the city."

Nick blinked at the shrew, waiting for him to continue. "I called off the hunt when I was going through some of her things. Buried in a pile of old photos and books, I found a picture of little Nicky Wilde, pulling on her tail as John scolded him." Big let out a breath filled with reminiscent mirth, shaking his head as he looked at his hind paws in thought. "Truth be told, I had no idea what happened to you after your mother was gone. I didn't even know it happened for the longest time. Gram-mama was devastated that you had vanished into smoke. I think it really brought some light back into her eyes when you showed up on my doorstep."

Big made a shrill noise by sucking in air through his teeth, making Nick pull his ears back. "I was furious when I learned what kind of rug that was," he said scornfully. "But I could not bring myself to tell her. Every time I would see her, sitting on her rocking chair with her hind paws weaved into a rug I knew was foul, I would see nothing but rage. How could he betray me like this, I would think. How could someone do something so despicable to such a sweet woman? I couldn't understand it." Big shook his head slowly before lifting his head to look at the bookshelf behind the desk. "That is, until I received the letter a couple weeks back."

Nick glanced behind the shrew to get a look at whatever Big was referring to. Sure enough, Nick could see a clear jar sitting on one of the shelves, a clear liquid filling the jar completely. Making his way around the desk, Nick picked the glass container up in his paws. "Like all of the others, he sent it with his labor of love. Only this time, it was a little bit different," he said, gesturing at the mason jar. Turning it over in his hand, Nick read a worn paper label that had been glued to the glass. 'Wilde & Weiss' was written out in perfect, handwritten calligraphy, the yellowing label's ink writing having browned and faded a significant amount.

"That is one of the original jars smuggled into the city by your great-grandfather during prohibition," Big said, pointing towards the jar. "Back then the Bigs were small, making money only in the black-market liquor. The city was a mess back then, with more poison than alcohol coming out of the makeshift stills. It wasn't until Wilde & Weiss that clean liquor poured through the streets like rivers. What do you think it means?"

"Why he sent it?" Nick asked, turning to cock an eyebrow at the little predator. "I couldn't tell you." Nick shrugged, placing the jar back on the shelf and walking back around the desk. "He's actually pretty cryptic every time you want a straight answer. What did the letter say?"

"He told me how he was the one that gave you the rug, and how you didn't know what it was," he replied, pulling up his lips to reveal his sharp teeth. "He even said that he told you to sell it to me. He came to my Gram-mama's funeral, and lied to my face in front of her cold visage. Why?"

Nick glanced over to the window. It was night now, though the water continued to pelt the glass, filling the room with the soft sound of rain. "I couldn't tell you why he went to the funeral," he said, starting slowly. "But he's got a weird way of leaching me a lesson. The thing with the rug was just his way of reminding me what you just told me, that I'm better off alone. He used to say it was the only way to be sure."

"Sure of what?"

Looking back over to the shrew, Nick sighed and waved his paws around noncommittedly. "Sure of who is out to get you. If you always assume it's everyone, there's never really a cause for question."

"It seems that lesson didn't stick," Big said. "With your dying words being dedicated to a rabbit, and all."

"What do you want me to say, Big?" he retorted. "Do you want me to lie to you and say it's all a hustle, just to save face?" Nick snorted, turning away from the mob boss to look back towards the window. "She offered me something worth holding onto, and I want to take it. It's as simple as that. I want something better than this."

"What's the plan, Nicky?" Big implored. "Quit? Then what? Are you just going to follow the rabbit around at the heel?"

"Maybe," he said, turning back to look at Big with an unreadable expression. "Maybe she'll realize what a lost cause I am and I'll get a job flipping bug burgers. What difference does it make to you?"

Big let out a quick breath through his snout in disbelief. "You have to realize how improbable this all sounds," he said, seeming to acquiesce finally to Nick's request. Or, at least, Nick was hoping that was the case. He still hadn't heard a 'no'. "Nick Wilde, the single most anti-conformist fox that happens to embody everything mammals assume foxes _are_ , at the drop of a hat turns around and wraps himself around the little finger of an ultra-conformist rabbit that happens to embody everything mammals assume rabbits _can't be_. It's like a bad joke."

"Truth is stranger than fiction," Nick shrugged with lidded eyes. "I guess she just rounds me out."

Big pursed his lips in thought, scratching the spot where his jaw reached up to his ear. "Just tell me this: If it doesn't work out, what are you going to do?"

"It'll work out," Nick replied confidently.

"But if it _doesn't_ -"

"It'll work out."

Big leaned back into his chair, scrutinizing Nick underneath his enormous eyebrows. He ran a claw through the fur just below his lip for some time, just staring at him. "It just so happens," he drawled, "that I have a problem on my hands right now, and you may have been influential in creating said problem." Big leaned forwards, shifting his weight to the end of the chair before sliding over edge and landing on his hind paws.

Nick watched him stroll over to the collection of recorder pen, running his sharp claws over the plastic in thought. "So I'll tell you what: help me fix it, and I'll consider us even, the rabbit, too." The shrew turned to glare at Nick, snaking his paws behind his back. "I'll be out of your lives for good, and I very much hope that means you'll be out of mine."

It would tempting to accept the offer outright for anyone that didn't know the mob boss, but Nick knew him well. It was never as easy as it sounded. "What kind of problem is it?" he asked. "I'm not going to do anything illegal."

Big chuckled. "Nicky, you are doing things that are illegal just by standing there," he said, waving a paw out in front of him towards the red fox. "Climb down off of your hallow hill and consider your situation. You'd do what it takes to absolve her of her debt, wouldn't you? It's nothing dangerous, I can assure you. I would only send one Wilde to do something like that, and you can be sure it isn't you. I just need to move some merchandise, is all."

Nick's brow furrowed at the first thing that came to mind when Big was talking about 'merchandise'. "Absolutely no drugs, Big."

"Nothing so ordinary, Nicky," he replied, shaking his head and sauntering over to the edge of the desk. "Simple counterfeit."

Cocking an eyebrow, Nick looked the arctic shrew up and down. "Why are you having trouble moving counterfeit?"

"A couple months back, when the savage predators became a big thing, I took the business opportunity," he explained, gesturing with one of his paws "With mating season just around the corner, and opinions about predators at an all-time low, I decided to use the situation to make myself a little money."

"Mating season?" Nick repeated flatly. He tilted his head to the side to give Big an incredulous look, narrowing his eyes. "What'd you spoof?"

Big raised his eyebrows at Nick. "Fox repellent."

Scoffing, Nick shook his head at the shrew. "Really? That stuff sells like candy-coated crack. Why the hell can't you move it?"

"Oh, I have been having a very easy time moving it, to be sure," he answered, turning away from Nick to slowly make his way back to his chair. "I'm making so much money off of one shipment, that it's not even funny." Big swiveled back to Nick's direction after reaching the chair, pointing a sharp claw in his direction. "The problem, my friend, is your recent _activities_ may have put a serious hole in my investment. Since it's clear that our carnivorous brothers aren't losing their minds for no real reason, and that it has effectively been stopped, my profits will go down."

"So you want me to help you move everything that you have as fast as you can?"

"You're correct," he said, nodding. "The Union I have making them has run out of the materials they need, and I'm afraid I can't get any more, so we have a limited supply. I want to make as much as I can off of them, and if I have to drop the price because mammals feel they might not need them anymore, I will not be happy." Big watched Nick's expression, taking in any reaction he could from the lidded expression he wore. "They're not full, if that is what you're worried about. We saved a little money by making them good for only one or two sprays."

"One spray is all you need," Nick deadpanned.

Big shrugged lightly. "This is the deal, Nicky. Do me this kindness, and I'll be sure to forget you two even exist."

Nick lowered his head down several inches, taking a defensive stance against the shrew. "I need your word, Big," he said, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "One last job, and we're done. For good."

The mob boss seemed to not take the request very seriously, as he just swayed his head in questionable agreement. "You have my word."

Nick considered his other options, which, given the situation, wasn't many. Better than the long trek through the insulation tunnels soaked to the bone in salt water, and if he could free Judy from this vile vermin's clutches, he would have even considered the _illegal_ activities. "I'll do it."

"Good," he replied, nodding his head slowly as he turned away from Nic, weaving his paws behind his back as he gazed at the portrait on the mantel. "You'll be helping Kevin move his share. His charisma is lacking in this trying time, and I'm sure he'll appreciate your assistance. Maybe you'll even be able to make up for pointing a gun at him."

"When do I start?"

Big turned his head to the side so he could look at Nick through the corner of one eye. "Tomorrow morning. You can meet Kevin over at Koslov's Palace sometime after eight. If you still have your silver tongue, I can't imagine it'll take you more than three days of hard work."

Nick gave Big a lopsided smile. "I'll do it in two."

Big hummed at him, looking back at the portrait of his grandmother. "I'm a very busy mammal, so if you would, show yourself out. Send Kevin in after you."

Nick pursed his lips at Big's back, giving him probably the last observation he ever would. "I doubt we'll see eachother again, Big," he confessed, tenting his brows up on his forehead as he reminisced about his time in the mob boss' company. "It wasn't all bad."

"No," he murmured, not turning to meet Nick's gaze. "It wasn't." The red fox made his way over to the desk, reaching over to grab the collection of pens sitting on the spotless surface. "Nicholas," Big spoke out, still staring at the mantel. Nick hesitate in grabbing the pens, tilting his head to watch the shrew from an angle.

"There's something your father told me so long ago now that I really didn't understand," he said in a gravelly voice, his expression retaining its stoicism. "He told me your were cut from a better cloth. He used to go on and on about you, how sweet you were and how much you tried to help other mammals, and I just couldn't see it." Big shook his head tentatively. "The world chewed you up and spit you back out, and I always thought it made you better for it. Tougher, even."

Big let out a raggedy sigh, shifting his weight onto one paw as he pointed his snout towards his feet. "I think now he was just hoping it was the case. He wanted so much more for you than this life. He refused money to help his hurting business. He refused everything I offered him, even when we both knew he would be so much better off with it. I think he just desperately wanted you nowhere near this life, to be normal." Big finally turned from the mantel, staring directly into Nick's emerald eyes with certainty. "John Wilde was the greatest mammal I have ever know, and I had believed for the longest time that you were a disgrace to his legacy."

Strolling over towards Nick, Big came to a stop in front of the carrot pen the held the recording, placing his claws paw in the orange plastic carefully. "This recording is very important, I am sure," he said, running his paw back and forth on the sleek plastic. "It would be a shame if the woman it was intended for didn't receive it." Big glanced up to look at Nick again. "It made me realize that maybe you _are_ your father's son. Not just some backstreet hustler that doesn't give a damn about other mammals, but someone with a good heart. The world was robbed of John Wilde. Don't let it get robbed of his legacy."

Nick's ears pulled back onto his skull as a frown deepened across his face. He looked away. "It's a little late for that."

"It was nothing but a store, Nicky," he said, pushing the orange pen closed to Nick for him to grab. "I'm sure he would have just laughed it off."

Nick grabbed the pens, shoving the two lacking their packaging into his pant's pocket, while sticking the other into his soaked waistband. "It was his dream," he replied, watching Big turn away from him for the last time to gaze at the portrait.

"It was his _passion_ ," Big corrected plainly. "His dreams were for you."

Nick stared at the tiny shrew for a long time, taking in the ruthless murderer in light that rarely shown down upon him. He knew the look that creeped away just underneath the skin, pulling at the muscles of your face to betray your secrets to the word. It was a look that he was far too familiar with. Nick knew what it was like to have to look in a mirror to correct the subconscious dread that threatened to show itself to the world, but you could never make it disappear. It was always just a little bit off.

Finally, Nick turned and walked out of the room, making no noise except for the droplets of water that followed his path. Just as he was about to leave Big alone, he turned to look at him. "Goodbye, Big," he said, watching the shrew remain like a statue. Nick looked on into the room for a while, gazing at the mob boss he remained still, gazing passively at the portrait of his late grandmother. The silence of the room was deafening, the only respite Nick's steady breathing and the soft platter of the rain.

Closing the door behind him, Nick walked out into the slightly warmer hallway, taking a deep breath of the air. _Please let this be for real_ , Nick begged inside his mind, closing his eyes and letting out a drawn out breath. _Just this once. Let it go my way_.

"Here," a deep voice rung out, pulling Nick's attention back into the present. Glancing up, he saw Kevin holding out a shot glass made for mammals his size down towards him. "It will take cold away."

Nick took the glass, and turned it over in his paws as if to inspect the plain piece of glass. "Vodka?"

"Vodka."

He hummed at the polar bear, slamming the liquid back with one fluid motion. Exhaling loudly, Nick handed the glass back up to the bear to take gingerly between two enormous claws. "He wants to see you," he said up to the bear, whose ears perking up as he glanced down at Nick.

"Does he?" Kevin asked curiously.

Nick nodded. "Quarterlies came in, I'm afraid. Something about a drop in productivity in the workplace." He gave Kevin a lidded smirk. "Apparently he's bringing in some consultant to whip you into shape."

"Fact that you can still joke after ice bath is annoying," he replied, his scowl growing across his muzzle. "I fear I am regretting not killing you when I had chance."

Nick's smile widened. "Oh, you don't know the half of it."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **We made it! One hundred-thousand words! I have officially surpassed the maximum search option, putting me with just fifty-five other stories. Gotta say, I don't know if I should be proud or just surprised. I've never stuck with a personal project like this for so long, or as consistently as I have. Well, I say consistently even though it took me seven whole days to write this one. No big. I'm going to have more free time to write after last weekend, so it should be more regular.**

 **As always, thanks for all the support and reviews! I still reply to every one, so hit me up with whatever you've got. Criticism, hate, love, it's all welcome.**

 **Speaking of criticism,**

 **To The Valeyard: it does help. I genuinely have no idea what I'm doing here, so anything you've got is welcome. I don't actually have the greatest understanding of literary theory, or how to even properly form a sentence, so any new knowledge in the field of writing is appreciated. I mean, I should have already know that stuff, but I'm not perfect, and neither is my story. If it turns out that my first chapter pales in quality to the last, then I will be one happy anonymous dickhead on the internet. Now if only I could figure out how to find the willpower to write when I'm dead-tired... Or how to write full-stop.**


	12. Think about it, okay?

_8:22 pm, September 14th_

* * *

A lone streetlamp illuminated the night air, radiating the droplets in a crooked sphere with an orange warmth in cold street, the only other lights being far away from portions of the city still maintained and a flickering bulb hanging off a decrepit structure. The storm had slowed its assault, taking a steady pace of a light drizzle, but the dark clouds still hung ominously close to the ground, gently flowing over the cityscape as it made its way inland. A chilling cold had followed the rain, breezing through the streets and rustling the russet fur of a fox that stalked down the sidewalk.

Nick buttoned up the collar of his teal Hawaiian shirt, running a paw over the length of the buttoned seal and smoothing out the canary yellow leaf pattern against his chest. He pulled the knot of his orange tie closer to his neck, his cream colored fur bursting over the lip of the collar, matted. Groaning to himself at the mixture of the cold dampness and the uncomfortable tightness around his neck, the fox continued in stride down the edge of the street, kicking the surface of pooling water as he went.

In a matter of necessity, Nick had made his way to the closest cache he could after being released by the tiny shrew's goons. He could not be more thankful that he kept clean clothes in all of them. Grant it, he still felt the increasing need for a shower, but being dunked in the frigid, sub-zero water had a way of making him almost resent the idea. If he never saw another drop of water again, it would be too soon. _Tomorrow_ , he thought to himself with downcast eyes, ears swiveled behind his head to protect his ear canal from stray droplets. _I'll stop by the gym tomorrow_.

Having picked up a membership card from the cache, which he was fairly sure was still valid, he had every intention of doing it tonight. Time was not on his side. He could have either gone to the gym before it closed, taking the much-needed shower, or be on time for his phone call. It's certainly possible Judy wouldn't have minded the tardiness, but Nick was determined. Seldom did he make such promises, and this one seemed to burn in his mind far more than any agreement before. The giddy excitement of talking to the rabbit again was sending doubt into the fox's mind, but he pushed it back like every other building feeling towards the spunky bunny.

Sticking his paws in his pant's pockets, Nick widened his pace to a leisurely stroll, ignoring the flow of falling water as he walked straight into its path. A task that would have been made easier by his sunglasses, which were woefully absent. He had lost a lot of things that he kept in his pockets to the biting water in Big's office, shades included. He had half a mind to bill the shrew, having lost half of everything on him to water damage or it just falling out of his pockets in the struggle. The fox suppressed a growl when another droplet struck him straight in the eye, causing him to blink in frustration.

Nick wanted to duck closer to the face of the wall, find some respite from the storm with the looming protection of the brickface. This, however, was not as smart as it sounded. Sure, you'd find yourself dryer than you would taking the brunt of the storm in the open, but prying eyes seeing a fox skulking close to wall in the dead of night did not usually think they were just trying to stay out of the rain. Nick would rather not get the cops called on him when he was just trying to make a phone call. It had happened before.

Pulling himself in an alcove that used to be an alley entrance before it got bricked up, Nick pulled out a pawful of change. Using the pad of one of his fingers, he slid the metal around his paw, counting in his head how much quarters he had. _If she's the type to talk about her day for an hour, I'm going to have to cut her short_ , he thought with a huff. When he straightened out, he craned his neck around the corner to glance down the street in both direction before continuing his journey. He had already routinely done a number of his "disappearing acts" that he employed to lose any potential tail, probably to a non-existent audience, but Nick did not like to feel sure of himself.

His pace slowed to some extent as he ran his claws through the fur of his chin, pulling apart the matted clumps that formed from his constant soaking. _Stop thinking like that_ , he scolded himself, pulling his paw away only far enough to return it to the top of his head so he could smooth down his ears. _You're not doing anything wrong. Nobody is tailing you, and if some fuzz shows up just tell them you're here to call one of their own_. Nick slowed to a halt on the sidewalk, staring blankly straight ahead. Closing his eyes and tilting his snout upwards to the sky, the lone fox let out a sigh to the deserted street.

After a long moment he convulsed with a choking scoff, letting gravity pull his head down until her was staring at his hind paws, halfway submerged in water. Nick ran a paw down the length of his snout starting from his brow, disheveling the nap as he watched the dancing ripples in the pool, twirling around the tufts of grass and broken concrete that stuck out of the dark water. The cracks in the rock spreading out in all directions of the pool like a spiderweb, tiny rivers feeding into it from the coating of water that fell all around him. _Stop thinking like that_ , he repeated back to himself in a mocking thought. _That's rich, Nick. Do you really think that just because you're talking big talk about going straight that other mammals still won't just assume?_

A toothy grin split the stationary fox's face. _And here I thought you were gone, old friend_ , he thought as he shook his head and started walking again. _Almost thought you had up and given up on me_. His lazy smile remained a feature of his face as he continued down the street, passing seemingly abandoned looking buildings after another. It wasn't long before he finally reaches his destination. A tattered tiled brick awning held up by wood splotched with water damage and mold, clusters of moss spreading up the base of the plain four-by-fours. Nestled under the awning was a number of payphones of various sizes, all catering to their respective size-classes of mammals.

The rich blue coating of the telephone fixtures had faded dramatically, the edges chipped away to reveal the tarnishes steel underneath. Walking closer to the phone for his size, he saw the long brown streaks of rust that spread downward from the dialpad, the reflective iron still shining through from the sharp edges that saw the most handling. It had seen better days, and when Nick picked up the plastic pawset carefully, the oddly satisfying analog clunking of the mechanism hidden just beyond the worn face of the payphone, he could immediately hear the dialtone over the ceaseless rain.

Before he put the pawset up to his ear, he craned his head as he leaned back into his paws. Down the street a ways was a clinic open twenty-four hours a day, and sitting close to the street was a red LED sign displaying the temperature along with some other stuff. Most importantly being the time, which was just twenty-eight minutes after eight. A full two minutes before he was supposed to call Judy. Without looking, Nick gingerly replaced the pawset onto the payphone, letting his paw slide down off the beaten plastic to fall to his side.

Nick leaned up against the brick wall and waited. Closing his eyes, he focused in on the sound around him. His ears twitched as they swiveled around his head in concentration, Nick picking out every faint sound beyond the gentle rhythm of the rain. He had time to wait yet. _It's a bit silly to wait just two minutes, don't you think?_ he thought. _Still, don't want to seem too eager, now do we?_ Nick blinked at his own thought, finding it perplexing. To eager to what? Talk to the one person actually _expecting_ a call from him? Sighing, Nick pushed off the wall and retrieved the pawset once again.

Sticking the phone between his head and shoulder to free up his hands, Nick dug his paw into his pocket and deposited his small pile of change onto the top of the metal fixture, sliding two quarters to the edge of the metal to drop into his waiting paw. With a practiced zeal, he punched the pound sign with a claw and slid the two coins into the waiting slot. After a moment, a light note beeped twice over the dialtone, signaling it was ready to call. Effortlessly, Nick punched in Judy's phone number without having to look at the now-absent sticky note.

If it wasn't for the fact that he had been staring at the little note all the way into the city on the train, he would really been in trouble. It was just lucky for him that he had a good memory. Memorizing little bits of information quickly without having to keep notes had proven indispensable over the course of his lifetime, and it had proven it once again. If he had forgotten the number, Nick thought he might have taken the train back the first chance he got. It was good that it wasn't the case.

A humming ring filled his sensitive ears, almost too loud. Wincing at the sound, Nick twisted a knob near the dialpad, lowering the volume to be more suited for a mammal of his hearing. It was tough and mired in rust, scratching itself like it was full of sand the whole rotation. Nick could only guess the knob did not get changed very often, being a predator neighborhood. Or what's left of one, anyway.

The ring halted halfway through one of its cycles, cutting the noise in half with a fuzzy blip followed by a low staticy sound. "Officer Judy Hopps," a distinctly feminine voice chirped out, making Nick's ears perk even more than he thought they could.

A toothy grin cracked its way up Nick's muzzle. Whether it was in amusement or if he was just glad to hear her voice, he could not tell, nor did he find very much comfort in the idea of _knowing_. "It must have broken your little bunny heart every time you accidently said that after you quit," he said, his smile showing itself in his voice.

He could hear a light gasp of breath behind the earpiece. "Nick!" she squealed. "You called!" A creaking noise of old wood filled the other end of the call, followed by Judy continuing. "And at exactly eight thirty-one, too. How long have you been waiting by the phone just to not call me early?"

Desperately suppressing a chuckle, he was powerless to the smile that still betrayed him. "Is it so hard to believe I was fashionably late?"

She giggled. "Nothing about you is fashionable, Wilde," she said as another creaking came through. "Besides, I doubt Mr. 'time is money' can't keep a schedule."

"Oh?" he replied, cocking an eyebrow to the deserted street as he studied the payphone absentmindedly. "I'm on a schedule, now?"

"Believe it. I've been waiting with bated breath to be bored to tears," she said with a final flourish, giggling at the end of her mock confession. "You have the floor."

"Okay," Nick replied with a gentle nod, though he knew she would not see it. "I'm game." Grabbing onto a solid knob near the bottom of the fixture, the fox pulled the door up on its vertical hinges, peering into the empty compartment with disappointment.

"So, as you know," he said, reaching over to the fixture adjacent to his own, pulling on its door with some effort. "Every one of these payphones usually has a phone book around her- Ah ha!" Nick pulled out a yellow plastic binder, the outer covering worn and tattered, and tossed it onto the top of the smaller payphone. "Found it." Nick gave it a lidded observation as he carefully opened the binder, thumbing through the faded thin paper. "I was figuring we could start with the filibuster, and then we could move to the weather. What do you think?"

Judy scoffed. "As boring as that sounds-"

"Hey, now," he said, cutting her off playfully. "It's my turn to speak, and I get to continue talking until I'm done." Waiting until he heard the rabbit let out a huff, he continued. "Now, where was I? I think we're going to go through the alphabet by order of a pangram. Do you have any favorites?"

The line remained silent for a moment. "Wouldn't going through the alphabet normally technically be more boring?" she asked.

"I said I was going to bore you to death. I did not say anything about the severity in which I was going to beat you with said boredom."

Judy let out a quick breath, and he could hear a tapping sound from where she was. "Alright, Wilde," she said. "You're the one paying for this call, so I hope you brought plenty of change."

Glancing over to the small pile of change atop his fixture, he made a silent count once again. "You bet," he replied lazily. "I'm keeping track of every cent, so you can reimburse me when you get back into town."

"Uh, no," she said, a smile apparent in her voice. "If you plan on reading the phonebook, I'm going to have to contest that bill."

Nick moved onto idly scratching the top of the shorter payphone, chipping off flakes of faded blue. "Where's your sense of decorum, Carrots? At least pick up half the tab here."

She hummed. "You know, for some reason I figured you to be more gentlemammally than that."

"We live in a progressive world, Fluff. Haven't you heard?" he quipped. "Word on the street is some wide-eyed rabbit actually got herself into the ZPD. Trying times for common decency, I tell ya."

"Common decency?" Judy sniffed at the receiver, taking the moment to suck a shrill breath through her buck teeth. "That's a bit hypocritical for you to say, no?"

"I'll have you know that I've filled out my social contract to a 'T'," Nick replied. "It's not my fault rabbits are just held to a higher standard."

"Higher standard being what, exactly?" she said incredulously, though still in a playful tone. "Pumping out litter after litter in between working in the dirt? That excuse doesn't fly with me, mister. You're being held to a much higher standard than any lapin I know." Judy let that hang in the airwaves for a moment as Nick listened to the atmosphere on the other side of the phone. When she continued, she did it a theatrical tone. "At least you have the courtesy to call, even if you are trying to haggle me into paying half the payphone tab."

Nick paused his action of chipping away at the paint and tilted his snout upwards to look at the brick wall, a lazy smile creeping across his face. "You make me sound like such a saint, you know that?"

"I just stated the facts of the case, Wilde," she said, though halfway through she seemed to sputter and falter in her deliver, obviously catching on too late what that little comeback reminded her of. It almost sounded like she sucked in a breath, expecting him to call her on it.

Nick took it in stride, giving her an out by pretending it was a joke. "Ooph. Really stings, Carrots," he said with mock melancholy. It wasn't exactly something he relished remembering himself, and held no reason to bring it up. "I might need you to pay for the call and the emotional damage."

Judy seemed to scramble on her end of the line, sputtering out her reply quickly and stumbling over a few syllables. "Oh, yeah?" she said awkwardly. "What'll you take in payment?"

Noting her discomfort, he took no time continuing. "How about blueberries?"

A dry chuckle came out of the earpiece, tickling the sensitive fur inside his pointy ears. She seemed to smooth herself out to some extent, recovering from the blunder. "Nick, I already owe you a basket for driving me home. If you keep putting my under with all of these payments of blueberries, you'll be entitled to the whole dang farm in a couple _weeks_."

Nick smiled again. "How did you figure out my plan so quickly?" he said, humming when he heard her giggle. "I was really putting in my all to make you think I wasn't just interested in you for your produce."

"It was a bit 'on the nose', I'm afraid," she replied nasally. "You should have suggested a couple other payment methods instead of going straight for my family's livelihood."

A tone played in his ear, spurring Nick's paw into motion to slid another set of coins off the top of the fixture. "Like what?" he asked, sliding the metal disks into the slot, one after another.

Judy seemed to think for a moment, the line quieting to the low hum of electricity and the background noise of wherever she was. "Is my company not good enough?" she asked, bewitchingly smooth.

Nick chuckled. "Carrots, are you trying to woo me with your feminine charm?" he replied, squinting his eyes to the brickface. "I'm a fox, sweetheart. You're going to have to try a little harder than that. We're notoriously hard to get."

"Hard to get to pay for his own phone calls, maybe."

"I will remind you that you're the one refusing to pay their fair share here," Nick said, resting his chin on the arm he propped up onto the top of the fixture, leaning into it lazily. "I'm just putting down the whole price for you to pay me some back later."

After a short burst of giggles that followed an unrefined snort, she sighed into the receiver. "Stop it, Nick. Begging is unbecoming for you."

"Please," Nick said dismissively, rolling his eyes. "If I was begging I'd put on a cast and pretend to have caught a cold."

"A cast?"

"Yup," he reaffirmed, nodding his head to a non-existent audience. "Have you ever read 'The Mammal with the Twisted Lip'? Who am I kidding, I must have seen a hundred crime novels while I was in your room. Point is, mammals are a lot more giving when they see something they think is pathetic." Nick traced his vision along the crid of brick and mortar in front of him, not really paying attention. "I made a lot of money panhandling when I was younger. Made a lot more when I pretended to have broken bones or an injury. Made even more than that when I disguised myself as a raccoon, but hey, what can you do?"

Nick expected a the heart banter to continue, but when the line remained silent for more time than it would take her to come up with something, Nick's smile dropped. _What did I just say?_ he thought to himself. _Did I just tell her I used to beg for money?_ Nick straightened out from his lean into the fixture and slapped a paw over his eyes in exasperation. He let out a slow breath as he ran the paw over the top of his head to smooth down his ears. "I ruined it, didn't I?" he carefully asked, tenting his brow as he waited for a response that was slow to come.

"Nick, I…" she trailed off, and the phone went dead again. To Nick, it felt like it dragged on for a long time, though he knew only seconds had passed. The electronic hum of the background noise played against his ear drug, seemingly getting louder as the silence was drawn out. He should apologize, but what could he say? 'Hey, I'm sorry I ruined the vibe by talking about what a horrible life I've lived'? Nick waited. We waited for her to make the first move. _If she asks_ , he thought, staring blankly at the brick inches from his snout. _Will I tell her?_

"So how's your first day of retirement been?" she chirped, splitting Nick's train of thought asunder. He blinked to himself, not sure how she could change so quickly. That is, until he remembered what she had told him during the car ride. She didn't want him to push her out. _Wouldn't I?_ he thought, scratching his chin.

Nick decided that it wasn't worth dwelling on it. Judy gave him an out, and he intended to take it. "Busy," he replied. "I put in my papers, but it looks like I'm going to be staying in the office for a couple more days."

The line went dead again, though this time he could feel the air of indignation rather than unease, which was to be expected. "What is that supposed to mean?" she whispered harshly, like she was afraid of people listening to the conversation now.

 _Oh, sure_ , he thought. _It was definitely perfectly normal up until now. There certainly wasn't anything that would make you want others not to listen to this call before this_. "I did tell you that you can't just walk away from a life like mine," he replied, leaning back into the payphone fixture. "Well, I take it back. You really can, in a sense. It's probably the easiest life to walk away from that I know of. The part that is hard is trading it for something better."

Nick could hear the edge to Judy's voice when she continued. "What are you doing for a couple days then?"

"Doing a job for Big," Nick said, twirling the hard cable connected to the pawset around one of his claws absentmindedly. "Debts have to be payed, and as much as the little shrew likes money, he generally takes what he's owed as labor in one way or another."

"Nick, is it illegal?"

"It's nothing that could hurt anyone, if that's what you're asking," he replied, knowing that Judy wouldn't like the answer. He held out hope she would drop it right there, and not involve herself in that kind of knowledge any more than she already was. "I've never done jobs like that. Believe it or not, most of the stuff I've done for Big is either gray area legal or brokerage stuff."

Judy scoffed. "And this job you're doing is in a gray area?" she said in the form of a question, though it was actually a poorly disguised order laced with a tacit threat.

"Well…" Nick trailed off, abandoning his grasp on the cord to throw his arm over the top of the metal casing. "It's a class D," he said in an apologetic tone.

He could hear a scratching noise every so often, like her fur was scraping across the screen of the phone. It occurred to him, and it was rather amusing despite the circumstances, that he was hearing her nose twitch. "Misdemeanour?" she asked, casting her voice further than she usually did, laced with authority. It was her cop voice, and Nick was powerless against it.

"Felony," he whispered, patting down one of his ears.

"Nick."

"Carrots, I know what you're going to say, but I really don't have a choice," Nick said as he waved his paw around the air as if she could see his gesturing. "Big has a way of being rather… _persuasive_. It's actually a miracle he even made the deal in the first place. I was getting worried that he wouldn't settle."

"Nick, it's not worth it," she pleaded. "You can-"

"Let me stop you right there, Fluff. It _is_ worth it. The only other ways this could go is if I take up a new job as an ice sculpture or Big bites the big one, and the latter isn't going to happen."

"If you think he could hurt you, you can't go along with it," she said, the sound of wood creaking filling the receiver again as she moved around. "I read up some of the police files we have on him after the press conference, and he's _dangerous_."

"You think I don't know that?" he questioned, squinting his eyes at the bricks. "Wait…" Nick furrowed his brow. "You went to him for help with Weaselton _after_ you figured out what kind of mammal he is?"

Judy scoffed at him. "I'm not stupid, Nick. I knew what kind of mammal he was when his goons kidnapped us. The ice pit was just icing on the cake."

Letting out a confused breath, Nick straightened up. "Yeah, well, that doesn't explain why you wanted to go to him for Weaselton."

"People were getting _hurt_ every moment we didn't act," she said, raising her voice enough to make Nick splay his ears. "Yes, I screwed up. I know that. But you know what? I didn't have _time_ to do it the right way. Some psychopath was going around poisoning predators with hallucinogens that was making them hurt mammals against their will." She made a frustrated noise as she moved around.

"Yeah, I could have gone to Bogo, but then we wouldn't have made it to Doug before he left to dart that cheetah in Sahara Square. That could have _killed_ someone." She went on, seething with apparent frustration that was probably caused by more than Nick's questioning. "Yes, I could have handled Weaselton in a way that didn't involve threatening his life, but then we wouldn't have gotten to Doug in time _again_. Yes, I could have done a million things differently, by the book, but then there might be mammals alive today that _wouldn't_ be. I don't regret it in the slightest."

Nick shook his head. "That's dangerously close to vigilante talk there, Carrots," he replied, abandoning his questioning to hurriedly change the subject. A tone played in his ear, and Nick again inserted two coins into the mechanism. "You sure you're not going to hand in your badge to wear a cape and prance around rooftops?"

"If that's what it takes to make the world a better place, Nick," she said, although it didn't sound like a joke. "I _can't_ just sit back and watch mammals get hurt. I just can't."

Nick hummed at her. "You should start coming up with a name then," he said. "Bunnygirl doesn't really sound right to me. I could have sworn there was a rabbit super hero, but it's been so long since I read a comic I could not begin to tell you."

Judy made an effort to sound amused at his joke, despite still being hot about the whole last couple days. "Her name was _'Radar'_ , and she was a hare, Slick." She informed him thoughtlessly, as she was clearly thinking about something else. "Doesn't really count."

"Oh, right," he said with a smile, nodding his head. "The Wolf and his Radar. You don't strike me for a comic girl-" Nick cut himself off as he thought about it. "Actually, I take that back."

Judy let out a hollow laugh. "I'm not sure if you're making fun of me or not," she said with a smile that shone through her tone. "They were Hare's. I would sneak some out of his room to read them."

Nick hummed again. "Speaking of, how did that talk go?"

"Well enough," she replied, returning slowly to her natural mood, though he could still feel whatever it was that was bothering her linger. "Did he give you any trouble?"

"Nope." Nick turned away from the fixture and leaned against the wall, looking out into the drizzle that pattered against the street. "Actually apologized, believe it or not. You sure do have a weird family."

"You've only met two of us," she said, snorting at him.

"Four, actually. There's you, your brother, and two of your sisters."

The line was quiet for a moment. "Two of my sisters?" she asked. "When did you meet them?"

Nick threw one of his elbows up on top of a payphone as he lounged into the uneven bricks. He was starting to find it difficult to come up with ways to occupy his body while talking. He never liked phone calls, and he certainly never put a dollar and a half into one before. He didn't even think he was close to hanging up. "First one was one of your younger siblings when you made me wait outside your room, and the second was Ellie," he said peering at his diminishing pile of quarters.

"I stopped by the pharmacy she was working at to…" Nick trailed off, remembering that the only reason he had gone in there was for the carrot pen. "Buy…" Nick was scrounging his mind for an answer, finding the stumble to be increasingly more obvious the more time went by. "A bottle of water," he finally said lamely, snapping his maw shut a little louder than he had intended.

Judy was not great in not letting on that she noticed something wasn't right, this Nick knew, and was vindicated by her behavior, for sure. Still, it seemed she was making a point of not pushing on anything, a fact that was beginning to pull on Nick's conscious. "She didn't say anything about that," she replied.

"Eh," he said, waving his paw through the air before bringing it up close to his muzzle so he could examine his claws. "It was already after the fictitious train was supposed to leave, so I told her to keep it a secret."

"What, and she just listened to you?" she said, leerily. "A random stranger?"

"That hurts, Carrots, it really does," Nick replied, biting into one of his claws when he observed it had been damaged during his attack on the ice to smooth it out. "I'll have you know that I can be quite charming when I want to be."

"You must not want to be very often then," she said dryly, a crinkling sound coming up with her words. "I have yet to see it. Still, I'm surprised you two got along. She's pretty skiddish around predators."

"I noticed."

Judy made a noise in agreement. "Don't hold it against her," she replied. "She's been like that since she was little."

"Oh, I don't hold it against prey that act like that. I told you before that it doesn't bother me anymore."

"Well, it should," she replied with a huff. "It's not fair to you that people you don't even know treat you the way they do. They have no right. I'm sure they wouldn't like it if you just treated _them_ like that when you first met them."

Nick let out a long sigh, tilting his head to lazily watch the water stream down the concrete. "It's not as simple as that," he said. "It's not even really how they treat you. It's more what they're thinking that got to me. I could deal with the mammals that telegraph it. You know, when they hold their purses closer when you walk by, or when they start saying stuff that'd make your fur stand on end." Nick paused in thought, recalling some of the mammals like that he had encountered in the past. He didn't often think about it. In fact, he spent quite a bit of time not only ignoring them in the real world, but ignoring the memory of them too.

"That kind of stuff stopped getting to me a long time ago," he mumbled, kicking at a puddle near the edge of the awning. "That's just how they are." Nick stood idly with the silent pawset up to his ear, watching and listening to the rain around him in the night. He could faintly hear a siren wail from a long ways off. Not for him. They would roll up nice and quiet to blind him with their lights like every other nocturnal predator. Nick couldn't help but find some amusement in the thought it was the cop you didn't see coming that got you. _Funny how true it turned out to be_ , he thought, his smile only lasting a short while before it fell again.

"I think the thing that stuck with me was when I met these really kind mammals or someone who just seemed really caring, and you could tell that they were afraid of you," Nick said. "Like you were just a hair's breadth away from hurting them."

"But that's how they're _acting_ ," she said insistently. "They could at least try to face it."

"Well, that's just it," Nick replied, shrugging his shoulders and scratching the top of his head. "Most of them _do_ , even your sister." Finished with his scalp, he drew his paw across the bridge of his snout towards his nose. "It's not your garden variety cowering or teeth-chattering. It's the small hesitations, the twitch when you make the smallest movement. You can always tell. Even when they're trying to hide it."

"That's…" Judy trailed off, losing her intensity to a sputtering sigh. The line went dead again as the two mammals stood in each other's company, hundreds of miles apart. "I'm sorry you have to deal with that," she whispered.

"Like I said, none of it gets to me anymore."

It was a long time before either of them spoke again. Nick pushed the thoughts that Judy drudged up back, listening to her gentle breathing on the other end of the line. He closed his eye, blocking the dark world around him out with his own brand of comfortable blackness, isolating her sounds against the patting of the rain and the distant sounds of the city. "I might have created a lot more prey like that, you know," she said, drawing the words out into the cold air.

"I know," Nick nodded, keeping his eyes shut. "I don't hold it against you, either. Predators _were_ the ones going savage. If it wasn't you, Bellwether probably already had a plan to make everyone think that anyway."

"Maybe," she replied sullenly. "That doesn't mean I had the right."

Nick let his head be pulled into a drop by gravity, swinging by his neck when it tilted as far as it could. "When are you going to stop kicking yourself over that?"

Judy snorted harshly, a light tapping sound rhythmically broke the silence. "Never, Nick," she said. "Do you know how many people were injured in the riots that happened?"

Nick sighed, pinching the bridge of his snout as his brow furrowed. "I keep telling you, Bellwether would have done it anyway. Those riots would have happened no matter what you said at the press conference."

"But it _wasn't_ Bellwether," she said with a biting tone. "It was _me_."

"No, it wasn't," he replied a little louder than he intended. "They put on the spot in front of fifty cameras and you just said the first thing that came to mind, which happened to come from some badger in a lab coat and a clipboard." Nick exhaled a long breath, dropping his paw down to hang at his side limply and tilting his head up to stare out into the rain. "Would you have immediately come to the conclusion it was a 'biological predisposition' without her saying that?" he asked as more of a statement than a question.

Nick could hear Judy chew on her lip. "I don't know," she whispered.

"You don't know," Nick repeated back to her dryly.

Judy let out a frustrated groan. "No, Nick, I don't," she snapped at him before her words fell into a dejected mumbling. "It just made so much sense when I heard it, I didn't even stop to think about it. It was fifteen predators, Nick, and not a single prey animal. What was I going to come up with on my own? That the assistant mayor was going around paying rams to poison predators with nighthowler?"

Nick scoffed. "If it's so logical, then you have nothing to be upset about."

"Yes I do!" she screamed, making Nick pull the earpiece away with a wince. "I should have just said we didn't _know_! Instead… I had to go and…" she trailed off, her rant dying on her tongue in an emotional choke. He could hear her try to calm herself down, pulling the phone away to wipe her eyes and take a deep sniff. Even after she regained control of herself, the line remained silent for some time.

"'Reverting back to their primitive, savage ways,'" she mocked her own voice, sneering at it after her unflattering rendition was done. "That's what I said. Bellwether would not have been able to do it better than me. She even stopped me from making it worse."

The two settled back into silence, a practice that Nick was beginning to think was happening far too often. He wanted to say something, to use that silver tongue of his and woo her into thinking she's the hottest thing on the block, just like she believed when he had first met her. However, nothing he came up with sounded right. It all died in his throat for being too hollow, too insincere. He had spent his whole life selling stuff to mammals, and now he was beginning to feel he had no idea how to genuinely console someone. He knew how to manipulate the principle, sure, but now was not the time for manipulation.

Nick sighed heavily, sliding down the brick wall until he was squatting against it, holding the pawset closer to his maw than he had before. He had done this sort of thing before, being alone together. It seemed like it was the only thing he did when he was with someone, be it Finnick or any one of his other associated, and the the act of standing in someone else's company without really being _with_ them was painfully familiar. It never bothered him before. Which was why it ate away at Nick's conscience, the way the guarded silence rang against his ear. He knew he shouldn't, but some part of him was calling to him to not make it like it always was.

"After I was muzzled… by the ranger scouts that pretended to be my friends, I think I hated prey for a long time," Nick said slowly, drawing it out in his reminiscence. "It just didn't seem fair to me, how they could be so cruel and still maintain the illusion of being in the moral right. For some time after that happened, I really hated going to school." Nick paused. "We lived in a pretty prey majority neighborhood. Clean streets, friendly neighbors, that sort of thing, and the school was almost all prey. Not a single other fox. There was a couple canids and felids, but I never talked to any of them."

"After that happened, the mammals that I used to talk to all the time started looking different to me." Nick leaned his head back against the bricks and lazily traced his eyes around the underside of the rickety awning. "Like maybe they thought the same thing as those ranger scouts, and they were just waiting for the opportunity to muzzle me themselves. I think in a lot of ways I was the one that turned my time in school sour."

"They didn't care that I was a predator, at least not at that age. They just cared that I started to act the way I did, and one by one they all moved on. It just wasn't worth it for them to keep being friendly to a fox that wasn't." He shook his head at the memory, taking a long moment to make a raggedy breath. "At the time, I think I believed that it was them showing their true colors. They just didn't want to be friends with a _fox_." Nick bite out the last word like it was poison on his tongue.

Judy was quiet, but he could hear her settling into place, followed by the crinkling of some dried substance. "And now?"

Nick hummed, running his tongue over the sharp tips of his teeth. "In assuming they were out to get me just because they were prey," he said. "I really _became_ those ranger scouts in a way."

"What changed?"

"Growing up the way I did, you saw the worst in a lot of mammals, but you sometimes saw the best, too," he replied closing his eyes to retreat into memory. "There was this streetcorner I hung out at all the time when I was sixteen. And every day, I would see this blind porcupine walk home from work with arms full of groceries, and nobody would ever help her, no predators or prey. They would always cross the street to be as far away from this old lady that they could." Nick's brow furrowed above his shut eyelids, a sneer creeping its way over his maw when he recalled how some mammals acted around her.

When Nick started again, it was in a quiet remembrance, almost mourning to the ears. "One day, she bumped into a garbage can and her groceries spilled everywhere, but still nobody helped her," he said, swinging his paw out in front of him dramatically before scoffing. "I think they were afraid of her, a blind porcupine. She just _couldn't help it_ , right? She might hurt them on accident, so they just didn't risk trying to help."

He stuck a claw between his tie and his collar, pulling it down to loosen the knot. "I walked straight up to her and helped her pick it all up," he said plainly. "Then I carried it for her back to her apartment. I was mortified to find out that she lived on the top floor of this building, carrying all of that food up seven flights of stairs every single day of the week." Nick let out a breathy chuckle, unbuttoning the collar of his bright teal shirt.

"She couldn't get everything she needed in one trip, you see. She just had to get a little every day. So, I started meeting her outside of her work every time she got off," he paused for a moment, listening to Judy's breathing as he thought about it. "I helped her carry her groceries back to her place for a couple weeks after that, and we'd talk all the way there. About nothing really. She'd ask me questions about myself, and I dodge every one. I would ask questions about her, and she'd go on these long speeches about things. I thought it was pretty nice, actually."

"Then - and I'll never forget this - she asked if she could feel my face," Nick said, touching the underside of his jaw and running his paw over its length. "She wanted to know what I looked like. It's funny, I was so scared. I had made my first friend in a long time and she was about to find out I was a fox. What if she was horrified, you know? What if she hated me after that? Maybe she thought the same way every other prey thought, and wanted me to be muzzled."

Nick let his head fall back into place, opening his eyes to the dark world around him again. He tried to find the worlds he wanted to say, but every time he reached out for them, they slipped away. "I was shaking when she put her paws on my snout," he finally said, disguising his buried feelings with an air of transparent indifference until a smile split his face in two. "She felt my face for a while, and guess what happened?" Nick cast his eyes down to the street to watch the ripples in the streams absentmindedly. "She wasn't surprised or scared. She just smiled and said, 'oh, my! Aren't you a handsome one!'" He let out a wheezing laugh, convulsing as he tried to contain it.

When he was done, there was a lingering moment of the memory, but it was quickly overshadowed. Nick's smile shrunk slowly until it was gone, and he just stared at the concrete blankly with lidded eyes. "She passed when I was twenty six," he said. "Cancer. Just like…" A tone broke Nick's train of thought. Slowly rising from his place against the wall, he grabbed onto the top of the fixture to pull himself up.

"A lot of times we find out we're wrong too late, when it doesn't make a difference anymore," Nick murmured as he stuck his last two coins into the machine. "At that point all we can do is reflect on what we did wrong, what we could have done differently. We think about all the things we wish we could take back. That just makes the moments when we realize that we're wrong when it's _not_ too late, when you have the opportunity to make up for a little of it by helping a blind old lady, all the more important."

Nick's forehead thumped against the top of the machine and he closed his eyes. "You said it yourself, the past is what makes us who we are."

"Why did you stay a hustler after that?" she asked.

"I was afraid," he replied. "You know, at that point, what mammals thought about foxes didn't really bother me. It was just another truth of the world. It stopped being the reason I was acting the way I was a long time ago. But after so many years, I really didn't think I could make it in the real world. It just seemed like something that wasn't for me."

"And now?"

"Well…" Nick trailed off, raising his eyebrows against the metal. " I have to be honest and tell you I'm still not sure."

Judy sighed. "Thanks, Nick, but I don't think the rest of the predators in the city will be quite so accepting."

"Were they accepting of you being a police officer?" he asked, keeping his forehead against the payphone.

"That's not the same thing," she repeated, though with less enthusiasm.

Nick pushed off the fixture, straightening up and sticking a paw into his pocket. "Do you forgive them for thinking that about rabbits?"

"Do I forgive them?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Can you see it from their point of view? At least understand it?"

Judy was quiet for a moment. "I guess," she said unconvincingly. "It doesn't make it right."

"No," he said, trying to reason with her still. "But if you can see it from their point of view, and learn to forgive them for it, it's not much of a stretch to believe they can too."

"Believing that rabbits can't be cops never got anyone hurt."

Nick scoffed at her. "Yeah?" he asked bluntly. "And all those years you spent going to law school instead of walking the beat, I guess you couldn't have helped anyone then, huh?"

"Nick, that's just not the same thing," she told him again, groaning. "I can _never_ forgive myself for it."

"Do me a favor, Carrots," Nick replied. "Think about it, okay?"

The phone grew silent again, the gentle electronic static over her soft breathing sounding not so irritating anymore. She sighed, and Nick could hear again the sound of creaking wood and the crinkling of something dry. "How does this keep happening?" she asked. "Why do we keep talking about all this horrible stuff?"

"Don't look at me," Nick said, raising his head off of the fixture and opening his eyes to the wall of bricks in front of him. "I offered to read the phonebook and talk about the weather."

Judy gave him a breathy, low laugh. "Well," she replied wistfully. "The weather's nice."

"Ha!" Nick barked, startling even himself. "Yeah, the rain is always nice," he said in a hoarse whisper. "Lots of good memories from when it was raining. Today's probably on that list, now. All things considered."

"I'm glad," she told him, a smile once again showing through her tone. "It keeps sounding like you need more of those."

"I guess I do," he agreed. Nick listened to the noise from Judy's line of the phone, the gentle static, the low hum, the crinkling of something dired. It all reminded him of one of the best nights he had in a long time, which really was only yesterday. He could hardly believe it had happened, even now. "You up in the loft right now?"

"Yup. I came up here after supper," she replied. "I've been dealing with the family all day, and I wanted some peace and quiet."

"Signing autographs again, huh?" Nick's lidded smile was returning to him, and he hoped he was done with the heavy stuff for awhile. Judy was somehow swiftly becoming both his greatest source and ultimate reprieve from the weight of the world. Next time, they wouldn't talk about this stuff. They'd just talk about the weather or something for the whole phone call. "That's good. You need a warm-up before you get swarmed back here in the city. A lot of mammals around here are saying you're like a hero or something. Predators, too."

"Oh, no," she said with a groan, and he could practically hear her eyes rolling. "I hope you're just teasing me again. I do _not_ want to be seen as that, not after everything that happened."

"Actions speak louder than words, Fluff. Just think about it, if you play your cards right, you could ask for anything. You could even get the Key to the-" Nick was cut off with a gentle tone that shattered his train of thought. His eyes quickly darted to the top of the payphone, and upon seeing it empty, he felt his stomach drop out from under him.

"What is is?" she asked with a worried tone.

"I…" Nick trailed off, still staring blankly at the empty spot where his modest pile of quarters had been. "It looks like I'm out of time."

"Oh." Her voice sounded plain on the surface, but the lingering quiet that filled the air afterwards struck Nick with how disappointing it felt, perhaps on both sides. She swallowed before speaking again. "I guess I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," he replied, slumping over the fixture.

"Hey," she said in a bittersweet, low voice, Nick's ears perking up "Next time, why don't we just talk about our days?"

"Might not have much of a day you would want to hear about," he confessed, another warning tone filling the air. "But I would love to hear about another day in House Hopps. I want all the juicy gossip."

Judy giggled. "That would take you for everything you've got, Slick. The payphone would run out of space for quarters before we got through half of it."

"Then I expect to hear at least a third of it, Carrots."

"What?" she said playfully. "We skipping your turn to bore me to tears and jumping straight to mine?"

"Hopping, more like," Nick said with an apartment smile. "But yes, that it the plan."

Judy giggled a little harder this time. "Don't joke, mister," she sassily replied. "A bunch of my sisters have an afternoon brunch where they do nothing but gossip. I'd have enough material for you to wish you ran out of quarters."

Nick shook his head with a chuckle, about to make a retort when the third and final warning tone played, signally the rapidly approaching end to the call. "Really, Carrots," he said with a sigh. "I've got to let you go. They're about to cut me off."

"Okay, Nick," she chirped, though her voice was laced with disappointment. "Talk to you tomorrow."

"You too, Fluff," he said longingly. "Don't sleep up there. You'll catch a cold."

"How sweet," she cooed.

"I take it back. Catch a cold for all I care."

Judy giggled. "Sweet dr-"

The line was dead. An angry beeping sound added insult to injury, and Nick slowly lowed the pawset back onto the mechanism. He stared at the payphone blankly for a moment, taking in the details as his mind drained of the retreating feelings that Judy gave him. Nick sighed again, shaking his head at the metal fixture in disdain. "Sweet dreams to you too, Carrots," he whispered before turning abruptly and walking back out into the cold rain, the darkness enveloping him once again as he slunk into an alleyway.

He wasn't far from a familiar place. Somewhere he had believed he would always see as a testament to his commitment towards emotional isolation. An unmoving object that weathered all things, be it the constant trample of paws or the decline of the industrial park surrounding it. The cobble bridge had once reminded him of how he never let the changing world change himself too. Now all he could think about was those two black-tipped ears poking over the lip.

He desperately wanted a good night's sleep. Yesterday had been one of the longest days Nick had ever lived, and today was not that far behind. Tomorrow was likely to rival them, working with Kevin all day to move illegal merchandise to mostly legitimate businesses. Last night's rest had been heaven, and he dreaded the thought that it would not come to him today. Maybe he dreaded the reason _why_ the same blissful rest wouldn't come to him again, or maybe he feared knowing.

Nick couldn't tell, and he deemed it unimportant regardless. One more day was behind him, and if everything went well, only a handful of more days in this life was ahead of him. What would he do when it was all over? Again, he was at a loss. One thing he did know, however, was that tomorrow he was going to get his hands on at least twenty dollars worth of quarters.


	13. Just two more days

_4:40 am, September 15th_

* * *

Something wasn't right. The scenery was familiar, the burning in his lungs and the way his blood trailed behind him from the shard of glass still lodged in the pad of his paw. The bricks felt real against him as he pushed against it desperately to propel himself forward. He could hear them, never less than a few meters behind. They flared their nostrils loudly, not because they needed to, but because they wanted him to hear, scraping their long claws against the surfaces they passed ominously.

It was all so familiar, but still it didn't seem right. This was supposed to be behind him. He was supposed to have found a way to escape from this life. He could remember clearly how he had been given a chance to leave this all behind, and yet here he was again, running, or more accurately stumbling, for his life. He swallowed the dry lump that settled into his throat as he scrambled to climb a dumpster, breathing heavily as he peered behind himself with wide eyes. There they were, predatory glares set back into their long, white faces.

He jumped, narrowly missing a swipe from one of their razor sharp sets of claws. Grabbing onto the lowest bar of a fire escape ladder, he scrambled upwards, pulling his tail up with him just as a clump of russet fur sang into the air, severed from his long appendage by another swipe. Every part of him ached as he ascended, the metal rattling and clanging from his pursuers piercing his ears as he rose. It wasn't long before he reached the roof, breaking out into a dead sprint across the gravel top. He ducked and crawled under the metal pipes and ducts, scraping gravel into the air behind him all the way.

Nick climbed up onto the lip of the building's roof, peering down to the alley below him only to find in horror that it was smooth brick. There was no way to escape. Nick shot his desperate eyes behind him, seeing the two polar bears descending on him faster than they had before. He turned to face them, arms spread out in either direction, backed up against the precipice where his heels hung off the edge. The bears slowed their pace just as they reached him, and his muzzle broke out into a sick grin.

"There is nowhere to run, Nicholas," one of the bears said, inching forward with his arms poised to strike. "You have lost."

"Have I?" Nick asked with wild eyes, leaning backwards into the drop. "Looks to me like you two have found yourselves cornered."

"You are mistaken," the other bear replied, reaching out for him. "You are the one cornered."

Nick gave the bear a dark chuckle, a toothy smile splitting his face. "You never were quick enough, Kevin," he said, feeling his weight pull off his paws as his center of gravity shifted over the lip. Nick fell backwards, watching the edge of the building shrink as two hard glares stared down at him. The vulpine couldn't help but laugh as he tumbled through the air, the adrenaline pumping through his veins in a blinding rush. Midair, Nick twisted in his fall to watch the concrete come up to meet him, only for his smile to be wiped off his muzzle instantly. Below him, filling a gross dumpster, was a pile of gutted fish corpses with lifeless heads staring back at the fox.

What a sick joke, for this to be the thing to kill him, a reflection of his lowest point. Nick was filled with rage as he tumbled down, cursing the word with his final breath before impacting the sick collection of rotting, bloody, maggot infested pile of bones. He hit the surface with a crunch, plunging into a warm liquid below it. Nick found himself floating in the dark as the corpses he brought with his plunge sank below him. He was alive, though he did not know how. Swimming back to the surface with a need, be broke with a deep gasp of air.

His lungs were filled with the scent of iron. Nick opened his eyes in a panic, seeing he was now floating in a raging sea of blood, twisting and rolling around him with the storm of red rain. The clouds above him were illuminated in an orange incandescence, black billows accenting the angry sky in every place the clouds did not shine with fire. The frothy brim coated every inch of him that stuck out of the sea of blood, congealing on his fur every moment he was there. Wave after wave of red cascaded on him, sending the fox back into the dark depths.

Nick was screaming, but he could not hear his voice. All he heard was a piercing ringing, like a blade cut the air permanently in two. Nick's eyes widened at an enormous wave that formed itself on the horizon, blotting out the sky as it rose from the sea. With a final crash, it came down on him with a force that propelled him into the darkness. In a moment, the liquid was gone, and he tumbled through the dark, descending with a deathly silence into nothing.

Gasping for air, Nick shot up from his slouching position atop an old woven folding lawn chair, startled to the point of panic. He choked on his breath, swallowing harshly to keep himself from convulsing with terror. His eyes relaxed when all he saw was the storm of rain framed by the cobble underside of the bridge. Nick slumped back into the fading green and white chair, throwing a paw haphazardly over his eyes as he panted. He lifted a few of his fingers to peer out into the rain with one eye, making sure it was real.

It was still pitch dark, and he used his one elbow that was draped over the armrest to pull himself up into a straighter position. Nick leaned his head into his paws that he propped up by his knees, continuing to catch his breath. It took him some time to get himself under control, the fetid stench and sticky congelation still fresh in his memory, reminding him of a morning he wished to forget again. Drudging up the past was beginning to have an effect on him, he could tell, and it wasn't healthy. Nick could only hope that he would soon return to blissful disremembrance.

Pulling his head up, he kept his pads flush with his face, sliding across his features and pulling his eyelids comically downward. He watched the rain for a long moment, putting the pieces of reality together in his mind as consciousness returned to him. After what seemed like half an hour, he closed his eyes to the world. Retreating back into the depths of his mind to retrieve what he needed to get through the day. _Just two more days_... he thought. _Just two more days and I can_ breathe _again_.

Nick pushed off the chair swiftly, straightening up and stretching the sleep out of his long torso and joints. He let out a prolonged sigh and slumped back into his more natural posture, patting the dust off of his teal Hawaiian shirt and taking large breaths to catch any scents he should concern himself with. As he expected, he could smell not much more than the rain and dusty underside of the bridge, taking the form of, as Judy so eloquently put it, dead dirt and booze. For all Nick knew, he was the only mammal to frequently visit this particular spot, but the fresh scent of alcohol and faint tobacco remained with a constant presence.

Satisfied with the state of his clothes, he took a final glance at the rain before turning to retrieve a number of items he had kept underneath a beaten bucket. Once he was done distributing his empty wallet and loose homeless paraphernalia between his pockets, Nick folded up the chair and leaned it against the cobble wall alongside a wicker basket. Having come to this spot for a long time, he had to wonder how these items never seemed to leave the bridge. Surely someone would come across them one day and take them away, yet they remained as constant as the lingering smell. It was a spot frozen in time, one of the reasons Nick liked it so much.

The time was once again impossible to discern, with the thick clouds and pitch darkness. Still, Nick felt rested enough, and saw no reason to remain even if it turned out to be closer to midnight than sunrise. He held no great constraint to his agenda, and the first thing on it, that being a shower that was long overdo, was more than possible to complete without daylight. Nick pulled out his wallet, flipping it open to study the gym membership card that he had gotten from his cache the day before. "Dhole's Gym" was the name on the simple plastic card, but no other important information besides the address and phone number were listed.

Having no reason to take the absence of a twenty-four hour stamp as implicit evidence that they were closed, Nick set off into the rain towards the address. He would be making a stop on the way to retrieve the gym bag he stored for just such an occasion, but even if it turned out they were closed, there was not an absence of falling water to be used as a natural shower. As the vulpine made his way down the deserted streets battered with the constant storm, he reflected on the fact that he should just skip the gym and use the rain regardless if it was closed or not. Despite his reservations, he needed an industrial blow dryer to ensure his salesman demeanor was not undermined by an untidy coat. Appearance was half the battle, after all.

Nick hummed a gentle tune as he made his way down the deserted streets, weaving in and out of alleyways as he zigzagged through the city with purpose. His lazy smile and lidded eyes did much to hide the turmoil that broiled underneath his rich emerald orbs, as it always did. The dreams were not new. If anything, they had been as constant as the seasons, coming to him every night that he could dream with terrifying renditions of his past or fears. There was little he could do about them, and seldom thought it important to deal with them save the short time that stretched beyond sleep. Just as soon as they were in his mind, they were gone.

Tonight should have been no different. However, the echos of a past he had thought buried were snaking its way into his conscious mind with every passing moment. It seemed like every day that went by, there was a new memory that came to him from seemingly nothing. Nick had for so long ignored his past, ignored the implications of what has happened to him over his long life, that he had apparently gone through each day unconscious. That was the nature of surviving, he supposed. Taking every day in stride, running for as long and as far as you could before you had to sleep, and then doing it again the next day.

The way the rain pattered down the sidewalks and asphalt played against his ears in the dark until his tune tapered off into silence. For a long time Nick walked silently down the streets and corridors, the only sounds from the wind and rain mixing with the splashes that were brought with every landing of his paws. It wasn't long before the dark, deserted streets were illuminated in neon and working street lamps as Nick made his way slowly out of the derelict neighborhoods of the southwest side.

He came to find it was close to four in the morning from a digital clock hanging over an open hours sign, and as he neared his destination Nick cut through an alleyway like any other. Halfway through the narrow passage, Nick turned to look down into a basement window. The dirty glass stood between him and a room shrouded in pitch-darkness, though he already knew what waited for him inside. Sticking one of his claws into a scuffed keyhole, the vulpine prodded around until he felt the mechanism within give, causing the lock to click. The fox took a few steps away from the window, peering in both directions down the alley before crawling through.

Now finding himself on a concrete floor, Nick straightened out from his landing, glancing around the room with unseeing eyes. With little choice, he used his sensitive ears and nose to scan the room, catching large swalths of smells with his deep breaths and swiveling his ears around. He stood in silence for a long moment to be sure, listening to the muffled storm coming from outside the window and the echoing drips of water from inside the room. His muscles relaxed over a period of minutes, losing his guarded stance more and more. By the time he had thoroughly convinced himself that he was alone, the rain had picked up again.

Nick felt around in the dark, sliding his guiding paw across all manors of metal frames and soggy cardboard boxes. His eyes adjusted slowly; even with the sensitive irises having been in near perfect darkness since he woke up, the insignificant amount of light that beamed down into the room from the water-speckled window was nigh impossible to perceive. It affected the room so minimally, that Nick's adept eyes plateaued in their effectiveness, and yet the room was still nothing but dark shapes and splotchy shadows. Nick took another sniff of the air, and upon finding only mold and damp paper, he hoped his gym bag was intact.

A spiderweb of piping crisscrossed the ceiling, connecting and splitting in and out of each other with steady drips falling from the joints. Nick didn't think it smelled like rainwater, and this was evidence of that fact. It seemed the building had fallen into even more disrepair since the last time he had been here, if the long stretched of dark mold crawling its way up the wall were any indication. Reaching the far end of the room, Nick shifted, or more accurately spilled, a cardboard box out of the way. The box dissolved at his touch, and the contents flowed out of the gross box like slime away from Nick. Suppressing a cringe that came up to him when the putrid scent of rotting paper and mold struck his nose, the vulpine took several steps back.

He cursed to himself, making a note that this cache location was thoroughly unusable now. Having very little regard for being silent or careful anymore, Nick ripped a nylon bag out from underneath a cubby that was nestled between a knot of pipes. He made his way across the room with his eyes locked on the dully illuminated glass, and scrambled out into the clean, night air. Choking out a breath he did not realize he was keeping in, the fox slumped against a dumpster to level himself out. He glanced at the dark blue and teal bag in his hands, shaking it around and fondling it to make sure it was still full.

Nick let out a sigh. He held out the mold cover bag out away from his body as he started walking back out towards the street, scraping the nylon against the brick walls and dunking it in small ponds to get the filth off. He was thankful it was waterproof, and all of his things remained bone dry inside the bag. Or at least, he hoped that was the case. It would be some morning if it wasn't. Nick peered around the corner, looking in both directions for any movement before shouldering the bag and strolling out into the open street. The rain was pelting down around him, and every little bit of water that had dried off of him had returned and then some.

Despite being soaked and his fur being whipped around by the chilly autumn air, Nick did not worry about getting sick. His ancestors had spent more than enough time out in the elements, weathering through even the harshest of storms. He was a fox; a little bit of rain wouldn't kill him. At least, Nick reasoned it to be that way. He had spent enough time out in the elements himself to give credence to theory, and much of it was worse than this. Still, it wasn't an immunity, it was a resistance. A hearty resistance, to be sure, but not enough to make the wandering vulpine believe he was invincible. His growing headache was proof enough of that.

 _Carrots is probably still asleep_ , he thought, kicking at the surface of a puddle as he strolled down the street with his paws in his pockets. _Hopefully her dreams are better than mine_. Nick suppressed a growl that was directed towards the intrusive thoughts about the rabbit, and pushed them down into the recesses of his mind. He had spent far too much time thinking about her over the past couples days, and even more after their phone conversation. Maybe it was to be expected. After all, he was doing all of this for her in some ways. The fact that he really had the will try to be better before all of this was apparent, but he couldn't help but think that if he hadn't met her, it was very likely he would have done this until his very last day.

The phone call had caused him a lot of troubled thought. He had realized that his rationalization of Judy's actions had been not much more than that: a rationalization. Maybe she did just espouse what the badger had said, but that didn't change the fact that she did so as easily as she did. It wasn't a new thought. Nick had believed the worst after the press conference, and the conclusion that she had thought those things was something he had already come to grips with, or so he thought. It had bothered him more than anything in a very long time, and drudging up that wound over the past couple days had taken its toll on his psyche.

Nick sighed heavily, attempting once again to push the thoughts out of his mind. No matter how hard he pushed, they seemed to continue looming over him far more ominously than the actual dark storm clouds that hung above. Judy had really believed those things. The one mammal in the whole world that had showed him someone believed in him, and she had at least recently held the very beliefs that caused him to slink out of society. Nick would have to figure out if he was okay with that or not. He had already forgiven her, so it's not like he would just go back to being torn up about it.

 _It's not like she didn't have a good reason_ , he thought, tilting his snout into the air to watch the black sky flow above him. There was a lot of things that immediately struck him when he first met Judy. Some of the more obvious things being her overly cheerful demeanor, her awkward public relations, and, though Nick would not admit it, her stunning amethyst eyes, but below that energetic exterior, he could see so much more. The fox repellent was on the very top of that list, right next to the claw marks any normal mammal that didn't pride themselves on being observant wouldn't notice. Who could just let an experience like that go?

Nick growled outwardly this time, shaking his head and returning his eyes to the dark street. There wasn't even a debate; he had forgiven her and they had moved on. Like she said, you can't change the past, no matter how much you wanted to, and Nick could plainly see she wanted to. Her words meant nothing when paired with her actions, and that's what is important. She rose above her circumstance, something Nick felt drive every step he took, the idea that it was possible. Even when she was fighting a subconscious battle with those vile thoughts, she still somehow managed to be one of the kindest mammals he had ever met. If someone like that could give him a seconds chance, he would be damned if he didn't give her the same faith, the same trust.

Rounding a corner, Nick could see the bright lights and glass walls of a gym, a backlit circle hanging above the building with the words "Dhole's Gym" written around the circumference. Coming closer to the structure, it was plain enough to see that it was open, much to Nick's relief. Taking a final glance around, the fox pushed open the glass door and walked into the lobby. Although the franchise had been started by a dhole, a mammal of comparable size to foxes, the majority of the equipment inside catered to some of the more upper-medium classifications of mammals to outright large.

The door rang as he entered, a worn bell swayed as the metal frame of the glass door struck it. Glancing around the open interior, he marveled at how outdated and old everything looked; it wasn't long ago that this place opened, or so he thought. Hearing a sound coming from the office of the other side of a reception window, Nick watched a familiar, disheveled looking civet wandering out into visibility. His expressionless eyes scanned over the vulpine for a brief moment before his brow furrowed and he met Nick's gaze.

"Tom," Nick said flatly, nodding his head. The door slowly hissed behind him, the hydraulics keeping it from slamming back into place.

The civet scratched his neck thoughtfully. "Nick." After a long moment of studying the fox, he clicked his tongue. "I would hope you have your card."

Nick slowly made his way towards the counter, pulling out his wallet and sliding the plastic card across the desk. The civet Nick knew as Tom snatched the plastic up and turned it over in his paw. "Do you have to do this every time?" he asked, watching the receptionist bow the plastic, presumably to test its authenticity. "I think you've known me long enough to stop carding me."

"Actually, I've known you long enough to card you every time," he replied, handing his membership badge back over the counter.

Nick hummed as he took the card and replaced in his wallet. "I'm only here for a shower." With that, he turned and started walking towards the locker rooms.

"You need it," the civet replied under his breath, and Nick kept his ears from perking up as he went.

Pushing the old door open, he glanced around the space. The entire rectangular room's floor and walls up to 6 feet off the ground was covered in clouded ivory colored tiles that Nick suspected to not possess their originally color. Cinder blocks covered the remainder of the wall, painted a fading blue, while the ceiling was generic drywall broken up by a patchwork of Sheetrock. The entrance of the room consisted mostly of lockers and benches either backed up against the wall, or creating a barrier between the door and the showering booths. Most of the lockers were a dull dark blue, but several had been traded out for a sandy red color, presumably because the doors were busted out for one reason or another.

Rounding the edge of the dividing wall of lockers, Nick threw his bag into the first available one he saw, zipping his bag open to inspect the contents. Thankfully, there was no mold, and it smelled fine enough. Nick retrieved his shampoo, a towel, and a combination lock from the bag and placed them on the bench behind him. Hurriedly, the fox removed his cloths and stuffed them into the same locker, shutting the door and clicking the combination lock into place. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he made his way towards the shower booths.

Polls stood in a derelict horizontal manner at the top of each entrance, with old, stained curtains hanging on rusted rings. Most of one side the room was segmented into booths of varying sizes running all the way to the back that catered to whatever physique required them. The wall opposite to the booths was lined with mirrors and sinks stationed at different heights, the porcelain chipped and covered in lime. Nick strolled into the booth closest to the lockers, closing the curtains behind him with a painful scraping sound.

Nick stood in the smallest booth, though he was still too short to reach all of the mechanics without a grimy looking plastic stepping-stool. He mused how pitiful this dreadful room looked, reminded why he much preferred showering in the rain or underneath a leaking pipe down beneath the city. He wondered if the female locker room looked any better. Climbing onto the top of the stool carefully, testing his weight with each step, he glanced up to the water controls. Thankfully he was already in a shower, because they did not instill him with confidence about being clean. Nick ripped off the towel and tossed it over the lip of the booth.

Hovering his paw over the warm water knob, the fox let out a huff before bracing himself and turning the cold water up to full. The lime covered shower head let out a terrible screech followed by a low hiss, shattering the echoing silence of the tiled room. Ice cold water sprung downwards and was met with a pained growl from the fox planted its path. Nick did not usually consider cold showers to be bad, but the past couple days were doing him no favors. _If only this all happened in summer_ , he thought running his shaking claws through his fur to allow the water to reach his undercoat.

The cold water that cascaded over his small figure had ceased feeling like it had knocked the wind out of him and started to feel more comforting. His fur began smoothing out as he dumped a generous amount of scented shampoo over the top of his head. He began spreading the substance all over his body, giving some areas more care than others. Shifting his weight on the stepping stool, Nick stood on one paw and then the other to ensure he could reach every spot he could to lather up in shampoo. Digging into his fur as deep as he could possibly go to ensure that none of the grime or dirt of his long couple days remained.

Satisfied with his effort he turned back to the pouring water to wash the suds and filth away. The hiss of the pipes echoing off the walls egged Nick into hastening his cleaning ritual. No longer methodical with the rest of his cleanliness, he instead took to scraping his claws through his fur in a haphazard circular motion until he was okay with the state of his coat. Finally shutting off the water, he grabbed at the towel he had thrown over the booth's wall, finding that he couldn't reach it. He inched closer to the edge of the stool and rested one of his paws on the tiled wall, stretching out in an effort to reach the dull green towel.

Feathering the edge of the towel fruitlessly, Nick made a lunge to reach the rest of the way. To his horror, he felt the friction between his hind paws and the warn plastic mesh of the stool break, and the paw resting on the tiles slid downward. Bracing himself, and still clinging to the green towel, he twisted in the air, falling sideways into the tiled barrier, and finally onto the hard floor with a less than pleasant thump. Nick's arm was spread up the tiles with the towel still in his grasp, and his legs hung limply over the capsized stood. He sighed, but was met with the towel finally being pulled off the lip, flopping down and covering his twister figure.

Nick crumpled the towel up into a ball and stuffed it under his arm. Bracing his sore hip, he lifted himself up off the ground. Shaking out the towel with both feet planted firmly on the actual ground, not some sorry excuse for a stool, and started drying his coat, rubbing back and forth. Satisfied with how dry he felt, he wrapped the small towel around his waist. He slung back the stained curtain, grabbed the shampoo that he tossed to the ground, and made his way around out of the booth and towards the back of the room.

Snaking his way around a corner, Nick stepped onto a metal grate. Vents pointed at the spot Nick was standing from every surface in the cubby, poised to unleash air at astonishing speeds. The fox grabbed onto a worn pendant switch that hung loosely from the roof, punching a red button with his thumb pad which subsequently lit up. The ventilation system sputtered to life, the turbines choppy until they settles into a constant, high-pitched whirring. Nick stood in the torrential cyclone of air with his arms out to each side, listlessly rotating himself so the strong wind broke every patch of guard hair to force the water from his body.

With the sheer power of the industrial dryer, it did not take him long to feel dry enough to start brushing. Nick punched the pendant switch again, the cyclone dying as he retrieved and reapplied his towel. All that was left for him to do was comb his fur, taking careful consideration to match the nap with his strokes. By the time he had considered himself to be done, it must have been half an hour spent in the locker room. It really didn't surprise Nick. He had known himself to take much longer in his ritual, especially when it pertained to a hustle. Making sure not a hair was out of place was key in producing the best possible first impression.

Nick stood in front of the mirror, gazing at his own reflection. His eyes were sunken into his head and his muzzle curved downward in a slack frown. He couldn't help but shake his head slowly at the gaunt reflection staring back at him, running his paw up and down his cheekbone thoughtfully. There was a moment when the mammal staring back brought back a faint memory, one of him standing triumphantly in front of a mirror with a pressed Junior Ranger Scout uniform on, his mother lovingly looming over. It was hard to believe that was the same fox staring back at him now.

Splashing cold water onto his face, he shook his head. Nick combed the fur on his muzzle back into place while staring at himself dully. The fox pulled his lips up as far as they could go, showing off his rows of sharp teeth and snapping his jaw open and closed to the mirror. His lips dropped back into place, this time taking the form of a lazy smile, relaxing his face into his trademark look of contentedness. He gave the reflection one more look with his easy, lidded eyes before turning abruptly, collecting all of his things, and walking straight out of the locker room into the gym proper.

When Nick was walking past the reception window to leave, the civet leaned out into the open to give the fox a look of indifference. "You clean up pretty nicely, fox," he said, running his dark eyes up and down his figure.

"Don't you have a game of Triball to be watching, Tom?" Nick asked with an easy smile, hiding the irritation he felt for the mammal.

"Burned through the tapes," he replied. "Been watching reruns on basic."

Nick cocked a brow. "Cable?"

Tom nodded, peering behind him into the employee's area. "It's the price you pay for getting paid to do jack shit in this hellhole. Being bored out of your mind."

"Maybe you should think about changing careers," Nick replied, shouldering his bag and backing up towards the door.

Tom shrugged. "I like being bored more than working," he said. Giving Nick a weird look, he continued. "That's rich coming from you, by the way."

Nick hummed at him, his smile widening and eyes growing more lidded. "Not as rich as you'd think, actually."

Snorting, the civet pushed off the counter and strolled back into the employee's area. "Get your own damn shower," he called out from behind the open doorway. "You brided me for a gym membership, not a damn shower pass."

"Are you saying I could have gotten a discount if I just wanted the shower?" Nick called back.

"Go away," he replied flatly, making Nick's smile grow.

Stepping out into the torrential rain, Nick's careful combing became a thing of futility, water pouring down his head around his long, sharp ears and drenching the shoulders of his Hawaiian shirt in seconds. This was why he didn't take warm showers, because this little act of stepping out into the rain would have ripped the breath right out of him. Only, having been prepared by the bone-chilling city water, the breath that escaped him was one of defeat rather than shock. Nick shook his head slowly, shooting a quick breath out of his snout in irritation, and took off leisurely down the sidewalk, bag in hand.

Nick trudged down alongside the street, leaning into his stride with his paws in his pockets and his ears flat against his head to frivolously protect himself from the copious amount of falling water. The dark clouds had begun being opened up with angry cracks of bright light, followed by thunderous shockwaves that rattled the very water around him. _One would think the damn storm would be gone by now_ , he thought bitterly, turning up his collar and unshouldering his bag. Holding the grimy gym bag over his head, Nick jogged the rest of the way to the subway entrance several blocks away.

Stumbling down a flight of stairs, where the only reason he didn't tumble over and break his neck was the griptape, the fox ducked into the subterranean station. The long platform was covered in tile and ran the parallel to the tracks, fluorescent lighting making the worn aesthetics painfully visible. Replacing his bag, Nick glanced over to a storm grate that stopped the incredible flow of water at the bottom of the stairs. The sound of the water traversing the metal and concrete runoff played to his ears for a moment as he brushed off and squeezed out what water he could. He huffed out a breath before turning and taking his position in the station.

The fox had situated himself on the wall of the station, equal distance to both staircases that lead out into the street and between two cast iron benches. There he stood for some time, constantly changing his attention from one thing to another, making quick glances to the time in between. Nick still had time to wait, though he didn't think it appropriate to relax, even though there was no mammal in sight. Going underground was usually a Hail Mary for mammals. There are very limited directions to run, and it's easy to get yourself cornered. During his time running from Big's bears, Nick had taken great pains to avoid going underground at all costs.

Standing where he did was another signifier for that kind of mindset. Equal distances from both exists to ensure the highest possible chance of escape when trouble came knocking at any entrance, even the train itself. Nick growled again at his thought's directions, again feeling irritation bubble up inside him as he reprimanded himself for thinking like a criminal. He wasn't one anymore, and he would never be one again. Even the thought of doing this one last job for Big did not sway his rationality as he planted himself on a bench next to a tiled support pillar. It was a black market job, sure, but it's not like society owed any the vipers at Fox Away a thing.

Nick retrieved the comb from his bag and began straightening out his coat once again. He would be here, or at least out of the rain, for awhile, and if he let his coat dry in weird directions, this morning's shower would have been effectively pointless. At least he didn't smell like rabbit anymore. Pausing in his grooming, the vulpine brought his forearm up to his snout, taking large breaths of air through the rough, russet fur. There was nothing but shampoo and him. A twinge of disappointment ran through his spine as he furrowed his brow at his arm. She smelled a lot better than him and his damned shampoo.

The comb bounced off the plastic bottle when he tossed it back into the bag, zipping it up and slumping back into the iron. His emerald eyes traced the lines in the roof in boredom, having abandoned his careful vigilance wholesale. Taking one more glance at the clock only to find that the next train was still almost ten minutes away, Nick shut his eyes and waited. The gentle rhythm of the rain and the echoing from the long, dark tunnels were the only noises that permeated his ears. This part of the city was often deserted at this hour, with the relatively lower population density and condemned subway lines, but it was especially quiet.

It only occurred to him now that he had not even bothered looking at what was happening with the protests, not that it much mattered to him. The politics of downtown never seemed to reach the southwest side, and Nick never found much of a reason to visit. Far too many cops and cameras in his opinion. The moments of relative silence dragged on longer than they should, the respite from the constant noise being the piercing dripping sound coming from somewhere within the station. The sound echoed off the walls far too much for the fox to pinpoint the source, and his concentration was shattered by the distant sound of a horn.

A low tone similar to that of a doorbell rung out over the station before the static broke with a female voice. "May I have your attention," the voice said over the loudspeakers, making Nick's ears swivel on his head. "A train is approaching the platform. For your safety, please step away from the platform's edge as the train enters and leaves." The voice spoke in a deliberate tone, like she was talking to children.

Nick huffed as he stood up from the station's bench shouldering the bag and stepping up just short of a yellow painted line the stretched the edge of the platform. The subway cars came sluggishly into the station with the sound of screaming metal filling his ears as it slowed, the familiar rhythm of train cars bouncing on breaks in the tracks slowed their regularity as it came to a complete stop. An electronic hum met the doors as they opened up and a tone played over the station loudspeakers, prompting Nick to pass through the open doors with a small hop over the connection between the station and the car, swishing his tail upwards as he did so.

As he glanced around the car, Nick spotted a ZPD officer groggily reading the newspaper at the far end, glaring at the fox over the top. The fox nodded at the zebra officer before settling sideways into one of the over-sized seats looking towards the front of the train. Nick leaned his head into the window and looked out into the darkness of the tunnel, another tone playing over the speakers while the doors began to shut. Slowly, the train began to move. Heavy at first, it gathered the momentum it needed to propel itself across the metal tracks and down through the dark. Dim lights passed the outside in an even fashion, skipping the occasional busted bulb.

The train ride was long and brutal. The bouncing metal did nothing for his budding headache, and the disgruntled glared being thrown at him from across the train car by the ZPD's very own walking black and white weren't helping. Tundratown being on the complete other side of the city, the train stopped again and again at stations, mammals of all species flowing in and out of the car as the early morning dragged on closer to sunrise. With the loop running counterclockwise around the city, the train car made a brief appearance out in the open air when it sailed over the quiet dunes of Sahara Square.

The track ducked back underneath the sand before reaching the climate wall, the glass instantly becoming too cold to lean on when the train barreled past the divider. By the time the train had finally arrived at the Glacier Falls station, Nick was so bored he had taken to scraping shaped into the stains on the outside of his gym bag. Absentmindedly, he had made a fairly gradeschool rendition of himself and Judy triumphantly standing in the circular exhibit just a few days ago, followed by him hurriedly scraping the drawing away in exasperation at how ridiculous it was.

When the tone played over the speakers and the familiar feminine voice announced their approach, the fox lazily got up from the flaking plastic bench and made his way to wait for the doors to open. Taking one last glance over to the zebra officer, who had spent a good amount of time in his presence, he saw he was staring back at him indifferently. Nick nodded again, surprised to find the zebra nodding back as the doors buzzed open and he walked out into the cold station.

The frozen aesthetic of the rectangular stop was exaggerated by the florescent lights, with the tiled pillars supporting the roof having slopes of snow hanging off of their frames and benches lining the back wall sat atop piles of shoveled powder. Nick's breath billowed out from his snout as he made his way across the station with the other mammals that were on the train. While the rest of the passengers paused at the steps to open their umbrellas, the vulpine continued his ascent without hesitation, being hit with a storm of freezing rain as soon he he was exposed to the open sky.

The climate wall could never keep up with natural precipitation, but that did not stop it from chilling the already cold water to near freezing. Honestly Nick couldn't stand this district any more than he absolutely needed to. Living the way he did, he had no reason to venture into the district for any reason than business, and even that was usually too much. All those hours sitting in Finnick's van with the heat on full blast, and cheating at cards in the back, coaching the small mammal in sleight of hand, was never as fun as the fox remembered. The actual atmosphere of skull-numbing boredom always seeming shorter in hindsight, but never when you want it to.

Come summer, when the sweltering heat would bear down on the districts, Nick had spent plenty of time in the frozen coastal harbors, with a fruity drink in hand, but that was just when the heat was unbearable. Ninety percent of the year was still a horrible time to visit Tundratown, especially for someone who sleeps on the streets. The vulpine had returned to holding his bag over his head as he made his way through the growing slush that coated the sidewalk, taking long strides to reach his destination, which he unfortunately knew to not be much warmer, a little faster.

The sun's influence was felt across the dark city as it began to rise slowly, only the subtle gray light breaking through the stormclouds. Still, it was not enough to provide the bone-chilling district with any semblance of daylight. The pointed architecture jutted out like teeth only to be emphasized by the myriad of icicles and sloping piles of snow. Neon signs reflected off of the frozen ground and muddied slush piles lined with tire tracks. Nick ducked into a narrow alleyway. The buildings towered over the small passage, and the red bricks of the street looked blue with rain and early morning light.

Nick's path broke out into a wide open plaza, mammals of all sizes enduring the last few moments before dawn as they bustled towards their jobs. Naturally pointed buildings shown through their usual coating of rounding snow piles, with their coverings having been mostly washed away. On the far end of the plaza, an enormous structure rose above the rest, shining a brilliant glacial blue with speckles of incandescent windows running up the length. Skybridges connected the enormous structure to the buildings around it above the frozen streets, and a lone, rounded door sat at street-level with a bright sign labeling it as "Koslov's Palace".

Making short work of traversing the plaza, Nick ducked into the door fit for even the largest of mammals, shaking his coat of the frigid water in the reception airlock. The decorative tiled glass wall radiated a warm glow of reds and oranges into the airlock, though the air was anything but warm. The atmosphere of the building was kept below freezing, a fact confirmed by snow that never melted. Nick pushed open the next rounded door to enter the building proper, immediately being hit with the sights and sounds of a five-star restaurant and everything that came with it.

Koslov's Palace was the jewel of Tundratown, and everyone knew it. The magnificent open dining room was lined in every direction with stunning victorian architecture, and the roof rose above the eating mammals several stories, housing the single most illustrious chandelier in the entire city. The actual dining area was indented into the ground, below a grand staircase that Nick stood at the edge of, believing for what seemed like the millionth time in his life that he was underdressed. An otter in a expensive looking vested uniform raised an eyebrow at the Hawaiian shirt wearing fox with a disgusting looking gym bag hanging off his shoulder.

"Do you have a reservation?" he asked, looking up and down the drenched vulpine suspiciously.

Nick gave the otter a lazy smile. "Oh, I'm actually here to talk to your boss. Is Koslov in?"

The otter's attention shot from his observation up to meet his green eyes, searching for any reason to doubt the fox's words. "I'm afraid I don't-"

"Nicholas!" a deep, cheerful voice bellowed out from up atop a balcony. Nick raised his eyebrows and widened his smile at the polar bear that stood leaning over the railing. "It feels like I haven't seen you in ages. How are you doing, my friend?"

"Pretty good, all things considered," Nick replied loudly back, sticking his paws into his pockets. "How's things going for you, Morris?"

The massive white bear chuckled as he looked at Nick. "Hold that thought!" he said, turning from the railing and retreating back into the building. "I'll be right down."

Nick glanced over to the otter that was giving him a distasteful look and smiled at him. The fox nodded his head towards a staircase and started walking away from the waiter. "If you'll excuse me," he chirped as he made his way past him.

Nick walked over to a immaculate red carpet staircase at the edge of the ground level, looking over a solid limestone railing at the dining area filled even in the early morning. Glancing back over to the staircase just as the enormous form of a polar bear round the corner, Nick watched the expensively dressed mammal descend towards him. Wearing a designer suit jacket over a black turtleneck, his collection of shimmering gold chains stood out against the rest of his dark, pinstriped attire. Holding his paws out to his sides, Koslov smiled at the fox standing at the bottom of the staircase.

"So, how's things?" Nick repeated just as the bear reached him, matching his warm smile.

Koslov patted the smaller mammal on the shoulder roughly, jostling Nick around with each heavy hit of his paw. "The same as it usually is," he replied smoothly, glancing over the dining area. "I heard about what happened yesterday. If I had been there, you can be sure I would have tried to convince Anthony not to do what he did. I would have been so heartbroken if I heard that had happened to you while I was off on business."

"No worries," the fox said, shrugging indifferently. "It all turned out okay in the end."

Koslov hummed down at him, his broad grin plastered across his long muzzle. "And I am very glad that is the case," he replied, waving a finger in the air before turning and making his way towards the grand staircase, pushing Nick along with his large paws. "Come, come! I'm sure you're hungry. We can have some breakfast before you and Kevin head out."

Matching the underboss' stride, Nick followed along down the staircase in the direction of the tables. "Are you sure that's alright?" he asked, glancing up at the polar bear while they made their way into the fray of dining mammals. "Where is he, anyway?"

"They took a truck out to Henry's," he replied without looking at the fox, instead snapping his long claws at a couple of waiters that stood near the edge of the activity and pointing at a small table at the back of the room. "I suspect they will be some time yet. That's where we're keeping a lot of the repellent."

"Ah," Nick said nasally, observing the somewhat alien environment. "That's why Raymond was over there yesterday."

Koslov nodded his head. "That is correct." The two mammals took their seats on a pair of ornate gold-painted chairs, an otter waiter coming up just behind them with a stiff pillow to be placed underneath to fox, as the table and chairs were made for mammals of a much larger size than Nick. As quick as the otter was there he was gone, lost in the sea of rich mammals.

Nick was settling atop the pillow when he turned to Koslov with a curious expression. "Say, do you still have that suit I left around here?" he asked, sitting his bag down next to his chair and gesturing with his paw down towards his clothes. "I'm not sure how convincing of a salesmammal I am with his getup."

"I do," he replied, looking out over the dining room for any of his employees. After spotting the same otter that had greeted Nick at the door walking towards them, the polar bear turned back to the fox and smiled. "I'll have someone bring it down for you."

The otter stopped just short of the table, taking an order pad out of his shirt pocket underneath his vest and looking up at his boss expectantly. "Atlantic cod and my nutritious shake for me," the bear spoke easily, slow enough for the otter to jot down the order without having to rush. "And get a fruit bowl and some cricket stew for my esteemed vulpine friend. Oh, and send someone up to my office to retrieve a small green suit that is hanging up in the wardrobe. They'll know it when they see it."

"Yes, sir," the otter nodded at his pad, finishing up his notes before glance up at them and bowing. "We'll be right back with your food."

"Hold that thought!" Koslov said, raising a claw into the air and stopping their waiter in his tracks. When he was sure the small mammal was watching, he waved his paw over in the direction of the fox. "Get Nicholas here a nutritious shake and some pasta, as well. In fact, put some extra potatoes in that cricket stew for him!"

"Yes, sir." The otter bowed again. "Would you like the same shake as yours?"

Koslov nodded. "Absolutely."

When the waiter made quick work of his retreat, Nick turned back to the bear. "Are you trying to fat me up or something?" he asked with a lazy smile. "You know I can't eat all of that."

"You will do your best, Nicholas," he replied, shaking his claw at the fox in an admonishing fashion. "You're too thin! You need to take better care of yourself."

"I'm fine, Morris," Nick said with a dismissive wave. "Really, I am. I've just been off my game for a couple months now."

The bear huffed at him as he unfolded his napkin and shook it out to place on his lap. "That is not an excuse," he replied. "While you are working for us, I will make sure you are properly fed." Just as he had finished his chiding of Nick's eating habits the otter returned with two purple smoothies. "Ah!" he said happily, snatching the two drinks off of the platter before the otter even came to a stop, causing the small mammal to slink away just as quickly.

"Here," he chirped, offering the purple drink out to the fox as he took a long gulp of his own. "Drink up."

Nick took the drink and eyed it suspiciously. "What's in it?" he asked.

"A healthier future, my red friend," Koslov replied, holding his own glass up like a toast. "Blueberries, banana, and soy milk. I do not start my day without one."

Upon hearing the shake contained blueberries, Nick believed it couldn't hurt to try it. To his surprise, it tasted fantastic, and the blueberries were almost as rich as the ones from Judy's farm. "It's not bad," Nick said with raised eyebrows, turning the drink around in his hands and nodding approvingly.

"Do you see? Being healthy is not as much a chore as you make it out to be. It can be very tasty, too."

Nick chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind."

The pair of predators settled into silence as they arranged their utensils atop the table, effortlessly pulling each subtly different tool from their fabric houses and placing them in specific locations out in front of them. "I hear this is the last job you will be doing for us," the underboss commented, glancing up from his task. "Is that correct?"

"If I'm lucky," Nick said, drolling the words out. "This might be the last thing I do in my _life_ of skirting around the law."

Koslov hummed. "What do you plan on doing once it is done?"

"The first thing?" he asked, gazing through his brow at the bear as he pushed the salad fork into a more parallel position. "Absolutely nothing. The first thing I plan on doing is taking a week off, just lying around."

The heavy brow on the bear's face rose into the air, accentuating his crystal blue eyes while he observed the fox. "You plan on growing lazy?"

"For the first week, definitely. After that, I'm sure I will think of something."

Giving the fox a knowing smile, Koslov leaned over the table, placing his paws on the edge as he did so. "Something to do with your rabbit friend?" he asked with a cocked eyebrow.

Nick looked up from his collection of neatly arranged utensils to give the polar bear a blank stare. "I'm not going to stop getting grilled about that, am I?"

Chuckling, Koslov leaned back into his ornate chair, smiling across the table. "I am not grilling, I am just curious," he said, lifting his paws off of the table to make room for the food being placed in front of him by their waiter, who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Nick's nose caught the smell of the cricket stew, prompting his stomach to growl loudly. "A lot of our guys has been talking about you, and a lot of it is in a less than flattering light, but I do not think it is weird. I was surprised, to be sure, when you showed up at Fru Fru's wedding with the little bunny, but I do not think it is as strange as so many think."

Nick gazed at the buffet of food in front of him, having no confidence whatsoever that he was going to be able to even pack in half of it. He took a bite of an apple slice from his fruit bowl before retrieving his soup spoon and glancing over to the bear. "I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not."

Rolling his head around his shoulders, the massive bear shrugged. "Yes, well, what I meant to say is I am glad you have other mammals in your life than us 'law skirters', as you so put it," he replied. "The fact that she is a rabbit does not bother me so much."

Being slow in his response so he could savor the _very_ expensive food he was getting for free, slurping up a spoonful of crickets, potatoes, carrots, and broth, Nick studied the bear in front of him for a long moment, tuning out the cacophony of clinking utensils and the soft murmur around the dining room. "What about the fact that she's a _cop_?" he asked carefully.

Koslov pursed his lips and leaned back into his chair while he was chewing a bite from his grilled atlantic cod. "I have known you for almost nine years now, Nicholas," he said after swallowing. "I have to say you have always struck me as a good-hearted mammal. There was some time when I had believed you were an undercover operative yourself, and that is why it took me so long to trust you in the first place."

The spoonful of sliced potatoes paused in the air, just outside Nick's open maw. Pulling the spoon away from his face, the fox eyed Koslov as he sliced off another piece of fish from his plate. "You thought _I_ was a cop?" he asked.

Meeting the question with a cocked eyebrow, he skewered the slice of fish with his claw and lifted it up into the air. "You think that is strange?" he questioned, biting the slice off of his hooked, sharp appendage.

Nick scoffed at him. "A little bit, Morris. I was a _fox_ , first and foremost."

"You think there cannot be a fox police officer?"

Tilting his head, he stabbed the pasta he was given with his dinner fork. "That's not what I am saying."

The bear hummed, taking another drink from his shake, reminding Nick to take another for himself. "Well, what _I_ am saying is it is good for you to have made friends with her," he replied gesturing at him with his gigantic paw. "Someone obviously needs to help look after you, and I know rabbits are very healthy creatures. I source all of my produce from the Tri-Burrows, after all. Perhaps she will make something out of you yet, Nicholas. I always believed you were too smart for this kind of thing."

Nick licked his lips to retrieve the excess healthy shake from his whiskers. _That explains why it tastes so good_ , he thought, glancing down into his near-empty glass. "You're talking like we're joined at the hip, Morris. We've only been friends for maybe a couple days, accumulatively," he said absentmindedly.

Smiling a crooked smile, and showing off his intimidating rows of razor-sharp teeth, the bear nearly growled in a playful manner. "Ah, a bear can dream, can't he?"

The table was drowned in the noise of the dining room, the pair of predators enjoying their meals slowly alongside each other as the conversation died down. They discussed the plan for the day, the intricacies of the supply including where it all came from, and took on the tones appropriate for business associates rather than old friends. In this line of work, it was sometimes difficult to discern the two. One of the reasons why Nick had a very strict 'everyone is a business associate, no matter how friendly you act' mindset. The only difference between Koslov and his goons were their shared air of education, and the appreciation for higher cerebral functioning that his lackeys sorely shunned.

After a long moment of the clinking of utensils across polished porcelain, Nick broke the silence as he stared plainly at a strawberry between his claws. "She asked me to _be_ a cop, you know," he said. "She wanted me to be her partner."

Koslov looked up from his meal, interested. "Is that so? What did you say to her?"

Nick sighed. "Without thinking, I accepted," he replied, lamenting the memory. "Then something happened that made me take it back, and I've been thinking that I might have not really thought it through when I filled in that application. It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing, you know? I wasn't thinking about all the factors."

The crooked smile returned to the bear. "Nicholas Wilde not taking into account every factor?" he asked. "Perhaps she has had an effect on you, after all."

"Funny," Nick deadpanned.

Koslov stuck out his bottom lip and shrugged, leaning back into his ornate chair to gaze at the fox across the table. "What factors are holding you back?"

"From being a _cop_?" he asked facetiously, tenting his eyebrows up on his forehead. "Do you want that in a spreadsheet or a novel?"

Koslov gave Nick a light chuckle. "That would be a rather short novel."

"Oh, you think so, do you?"

Shrugging the underboss gazed over the dining area, turning his eyes from one table to the next with interest. "I cannot pretend to boast about knowing everything, now can I?" he asked, glancing over at Nick just long enough to give him a weird look. "It is strange, Nicholas, your resolve. One moment you are bursting at the seams of perceived constriction, and the next you are giving away your freedom willingly."

Nick scoffed, slicing a potato in his empty dish in half with his spoon distractedly. "If I had a nickel for every time someone has said that to me over the past couple days, I'd have been able to buy a plane ticket to the tropics _yesterday_."

"Then I will take it no further," he replied, throwing his paws into the air in surrender. "I'd hate to be unoriginal."

Just as Koslov was done giving Nick's unamused expression a hearty laugh, the otter reappeared by the table once again, holding out a pressed, fern-green suit, dress shirt, and red tie all neatly collected on a hanger, covered in a dry cleaning poly bag, out towards Nick. "Here's the suit you wanted," he said flatly, letting Nick take the collection of clothing from him that was his size, and ripping the plastic off unapologetically to hand back to the waiter.

"Ah. Thank you, Jacob," Koslov spoke softly, smiling down at the otter who was already disappearing back into the fray. Turning His eyes back to the fox, he watched him pull a weathered nylon wallet out from the suit jacket's pocket, flipping it open with one paw to gaze at the fake driver's licence within. "I kept this even after what happened," Koslov said, breaking the relative silence of the table. "I had believed that one day you might be back for it. I do hope it still fits."

Still looking at the plastic identification within the wallet he had assumed lost for a long time, Nick marveled at the smug mammal that stared back at him. "I look so young," he replied flatly, shaking his head. "This was only five years ago."

Koslov hummed at that. "Time is a spiteful mistress," he said, glancing back over the tables distantly. "She takes you for everything you've got when you stop paying attention to her."

After some time staring at his own portrait from some years ago, or rather the portrait of a one 'Todd Shaw', Nick glanced up to meet the approaching eyes of another polar bear, dressed in a tracksuit and twisting a gold ring around his finger. Straightening up in his chair, he gave the bear an easy, lidded smile in welcoming. "Kevin," he said in mock cheerfulness. "I've been waiting."

"For a long time, I hope," Kevin replied as he stopped just short of the table.

Koslov ignored the slight from his employee, instead going straight to business. "How did it go?" he asked in a rough tone.

"Everything is okay," Kevin replied. "The truck waits out behind Palace. Enough stock to put fox to the test."

Nick laughed as he took one more bite from his fruit bowl and hopped down off his chair. "I'm sure I won't disappoint," he said easily.

Kevin glared at the fox as he shouldered his gym bag. "We are all hoping. I will be glad when this job is over."

"Good luck, my friends," Koslov bellowed happily from the table. "I am going to finish this wondrous meal before getting to any work, so please, don't let me keep you."

"See you tomorrow, Morris," Nick said, slinging the suit over his other shoulder to hang over his back.

Koslov cocked an eyebrow at him as he prepared to leave, downing the last of his health shake and sloppily licking what he could off the glass. "You will not come for dinner?" he asked. "We will be having a banquet in honor of Julius' birthday."

Shaking his head, Nick threw back the last couple berries that still remained. "Can't. I've got somewhere I need to be tonight."

A wide smile split the polar bear's face. "Ah. Say no more, Nicholas," he said, waving his paw through the air and giving him a knowing look. "I understand _completely_."

Nick scoffed at him and pulled out his wallet to leave his tip. "I think you've got the wrong idea. It's just a phone call."

"A phone call," he repeated, breaking out into a deep, hearty laugh before dragging a clawed finger below one of his eyes to wipe away a tear. "She has ruined you."

"Drink your soy shake and get back to me on who you think is going soft, Morris."

"At least I am not on a schedule to call home, lisíca!" he said, breaking out into another fit of chuckles. "Do tell the missus I said hello!"

"These are the reasons nobody asks _you_ to call them, Morris," Nick replied, throwing a twenty down on the table and turning to leave. "I've got a job to do."

"Be safe, my friends! Do stop somewhere to eat lunch, you're still too skinny!"

"Do skip lunch," he called over his shoulder. "You could be a little skinnier."

"Ah, Nicholas, that is no way to treat a friend," Koslov replied, smiling widely at the fox's retreating form. "I am just having a little fun at your expense. A taste of your own medicine, I would think."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, ya big oaf."

"Remember to tell her I said hello!" he called after them. "Any friend of yours is a friend of mine!"

"Somehow," Nick mumbled under his breath. "I don't think she'd appreciate that."

Nick followed Kevin towards the back of the building, ducking in and out of service hallways and ornate room as they made their way towards the loading bays. All the way, Nick unknotted his tie and started unbuttoning his Hawaiian shirt, pulling the suit over his shoulder to gaze down at the fern-green fabric and clashing, dark red tie. He ran his paw over the innocuous material, lacking his usual gaudy designs and eye-catching colors. Something didn't feel right about this. Whether it was the fact that he was hawking the very stuff that had blinded him with fire in the past, or the fact that it was illegal, he couldn't tell. It was going to be a long couple days. Again.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **So I'm going to be honest here, probably sixty to maybe seventy-five percent of this chapter could have realistically hit the cutting room floor. I'm obsessed; I'll be the first to admit it. I had this problem of being too detailed, or at least too slow, in my past story, and I had thought that I was getting better at being concise. It would seem I still have a long way to go. Fear not, despite me taking six days** _ **again**_ **to put out one chapter, I'm going to get back in the swing and put my nose to the grindstone (even though I've been saying that the past three chapters). One more chapter done, and one closer to this story's inevitable conclusion. I'll sure be happy when I don't have to worry about writing several thousand words every day, but I really have no idea what I'll do with all that free time.**

 **So, let's talk about my story. I'm probably at around 120k words by now, and it feels like not a whole lot has happened. Well, plenty has** _ **happened**_ **, but it's like day-to-day stuff. Eating at a diner, walking around the city (a lot), taking a shower, that sort of thing. There's no grand conspiracy or looming evil besides the past, and that's mostly just retrospective stuff. I think I "pride" myself in taking a "realistic" approach. Not so much in application, but in concept. It's usually mundane, even trivial. Just stuff that's going down in a day's time. In that way, I guess that circles back to my obsession with the setting. Setting isn't exactly "cinematic" or exciting. In a lot of ways, setting it boring and tedious, a foundation or groundwork in which to build something on. I think that is my greatest fear for this story, that it's all groundwork, a blank foundation.**

 **I said at the beginning that the conversations are the important thing in this story, and everything that happens around them is just window-dressing. I only worry that I've made a halfway decent looking window that looks into nothing. At the end of the day, what did I accomplish? Write a very slow story about the few days that follow Bellwether's arrest? Is there some grand lesson or philosophical point to the story? Well, I guess that's for you to decide. I can sound pretty pretentious between the pages, with some half-baked philosophical quote making, but all I'm hoping is people get** _ **something**_ **out of this. If it's just slightly entertaining you, then that's fine with me.**

 **As always, leave a review or send me a PM. There is never a wrong reason to hit me up, even if you just want to tell me to pack my bags. I'll do my best to reply to all of it.**


	14. I take it back, hurry up and get better

_6:47 pm, September 15th_

* * *

A heavy metal clank rang through the interior of the box truck. With an oiled ease the latch was pivoted on an axis and clacked to a halt onto scuffed metal, freeing the ribbed roll-up door to be shoved upwards. The bowing metal continued on its path upwards and into the truck even after the fox's arms were no longer sufficient enough to propel it. It bounced on its rack when it reached the back of the truck, rocking slowly and allowing the rain that pattered off of the metal roof to claim its prominence in the three mammal's ears once again. There was a moment of observant silence between the mammals that stood in the rain, dusk fast approaching

"Hit the lights, Kevin!" Nick called over his shoulder as he scrambled up the punched steel bumper, taking another step onto the cold aluminum flooring of the storage compartment and turning around to give a lidded smile to the antelope that looked on skeptically. He pulled off a number of bungee cords that kept the stack of cardboard boxes that lined the side of the truck in place, and slid one of them away from the wall. Just as Nick was sticking his claw through the packing tape, he could hear Kevin opening the driver's side door through the rain. With a harsh clunk, a humming plastic fixture flickered into illumination, casting down a pale orange light.

With the help of the ceiling fixture, Nick expertly sliced the box open with his claw, tearing the cardboard lid up and revealing the neat rows of pink bottles inside. Carefully taking one of the nozzles between two claws, the vulpine slung the repellent into the air to be dexterously caught by his other paw. Straightening out, and looking rather smug with himself, he tossed the bottle across the storage compartment into the startled hooves of the antelope, who barely caught it.

"Here you go," Nick said with an easy smile, fastening the top button of his fern green suit now that he was standing at eye level with the store owner, and didn't see himself giving that up just to stand in the rain. "Free sample."

The antelope that Nick had marked as his next target for a sale eyed the bottle suspiciously, trading his eyes between the repellent and the mammal it was supposedly made it repel. "So," he said with an air of doubt. He ran a hoof underneath the collar of his polo, scratching at his collarbone while he studied the pink weapon. "This is the real deal, huh?"

Nick nodded, not at all dissuaded by the suspicion being displayed. He shot a glance at Kevin as he rounded back into view, eyeing him and making sure the bear was watching the streets. "As real as it gets," he lied, taking hold of the lip on the cardboard box and dragged it across the sleek metal floor towards the herbivore. "Take a look inside. It's all there."

Setting his sample down on the edge of the storage space, the antelope ran his hooves over the pink nozzles, his expression twisted in deliberation. "How many is in each one of these?" he asked as he pulled random bottles out only to replace them once he was sure it was the same as all the others.

"Five layers of twenty by twenty-two," Nick replied while he was stuffing his paws into his green suit's pockets. "Comes out around twenty-two hundred bottles per."

The cream colored eyebrows below the antelope's twisted horns shot up as he looked up from his scrutinization of their merchandise. "That's a lot of repellent," he said. "I don't think I can realistically sell that much that quickly."

The smile on the fox's muzzle widened to the point of splitting his lips apart, though he kept his fangs ever out of sight. "Ah, but that's the great thing about it, Fred," Nick said gleefully, bringing one of his paws out of his pocket to point at the herbivore. "We are reaping the benefits of someone else's mistakes."

Watching the antelope's expression for a second to catch any reaction, the fox found none, prompting him to continue in stride. Nick kept his piercing green eyes on the horned mammal as he walked back to the stack of boxes. "You see, the manufacturer has been pretty consistent with sending fresh Fox Away merchandise down the line, but it turned out the distribution centers haven't been keeping their end of the bargain."

Patting the side of one of the cardboard containers, he tore his vision away from his mark to glance merrily up at the mountain of liquid fire. Whether or not Big had put one spray or a full bottle's worth, it didn't matter. Nick knew better than anyone that all you needed was one spray to cripple a mammal twice his size. "Management comes to find that their sales figures are dipping a little below what they projected, and then they get the call that apparently some half-baked warehouse humpers have got on their paws almost half a million units in product," he said with a dishonestly insouciant tone. "You can imagine the storm that caused."

Fred took a step back from the truck and crossed his arms over his chest. "What's that mean for me?"

Nick raised his eyebrows. "Besides this bountiful take in discount stock?" he asked, looking around the storage space while waving his paw to follow his eyes. After he had slowly glanced at the massive cardboard boxes around him, he fixed his gaze back on the antelope and smiled. "Well, quite a bit. Here's a term for you, my herbivorous friend: 'channel stuffing'."

His mark cocked an eyebrow. "Channel stuffing?"

Widening his eyes and nodding, Nick's smile threatened again to showcase his sharp teeth. Snapping his clawed index finger at the antelope, the fox continued. "Usually it's where the wholesaler is stiffing the retail end of our great country by making you pay for more product than you can sell," he replied, keeping his eyes locked on his target's. "But that's where the great part of the deal comes in."

"The fiscal quarter is fast approaching, I am sure you are aware, and the mammals up in the top offices over at Fox Away have riled themselves up into a panic," Nick said. "Their profits were already down last quarter, and if it drops again they are going to take some serious hits." Nick glanced back up to the heavy boxes tied by bungees, rapping his knuckles across the cardboard. When he turned back to his mark, he hooked a clawed thumb towards them. "This here is channel stuffing of the highest order, but seeing as how they've got half a million units sitting around and twenty days to stuff it all, you, my friend, have the chance of a lifetime."

Fred still eyed the fox suspiciously, giving him a sideways gaze between glances towards the open box in front of him. "How much am I saving here?"

Nick laughed. "Even if you were saving _nothing_ ," he said, walking back towards the tail end of the truck and gesturing wildly to accentuate his speech. "With the unfortunate events that have been happening, mating season fast approaching, and the sweet holiday sales rush a short few weeks away, you would _still_ be getting a deal." Nick snapped his index finger at him again, stopping just short of the open back and the rain. "Fred, buddy, it's an early Christmas for you, because these here bottles _are_ discounted."

"How much?"

Smiling, the fox confidently stuck his paws back into his suit's pockets. "A third," he replied.

Fred cocked an eyebrow. "Off?"

"Nope," Nick said while shaking his head, the smile that split his face growing. "We're charging a third of what you'd normally be paying."

The antelope tilted his snout downwards and narrowed his eyes. "That sounds a bit too good to be true," he said plainly.

Nick searched his dark eyes for a time, his expression remaining that of a gentle observance. After a long moment, he sighed, tearing his eyes away from his mark and glanced briefly around the storage compartment. "You know, Fred, hearing that is a bit of a disappointment," he said before settling his gaze on Kevin, who had remained where he stood occasionally craning his head to look out of the alleyway. "How many more stores do we have on that list, Kevin?"

Nick's question roused the polar bear, turning back to the pair with a blank look. Glancing up into the storm clouds like they held the answer, the bear considered the question, returning his vision back towards the fox only after a brief time. "One hundred fifty," he replied, his thick accent and deep voice prompting the antelope to raise his eyebrows.

Nick nodded his head and fixed his gaze back on his mark. "One hundred and fifty more outlets that we can hit," he said with a wave of his paw. "We've already sold probably thirty thousand units _today_. I'm gonna be done with my route by lunchtime tomorrow. This is the only chance you've got."

The antelope snorted. "Are you trying to trick me with the whole 'take it or leave it' schtick?" he asked, stepping closer to the tail end of the truck and picking up his sample again. "You are trying to sell me fox repellent out of the back of a box truck. I think I've got the right to be plenty skeptical, and not just because you're a _fox_."

"I'm not trying to trick you," Nick answered. "It's the truth." Watching his mark turn the pink bottle around in his hoof, Nick shot a glance over towards Kevin only to find he was watching a car that had stopped on the other side of the street from the alleyway. "Say what you want about my species, but the color of my fur doesn't change the deal."

Fred looked up from the bottle, narrowing his eyes. "What's in it for you?"

"Money, of course," the fox said, chuckling. "You might think it's strange for a guy like me to be standing where I am, surrounded by boxes full of, ironically enough, fox repellant." Nick tapered his smile into a lidded smirk. "Truth be told, Fred, even though I've been hit with this stuff myself, I don't see anything but dollar signs."

Considering the vulpine's words, the store owner pursed his lips and brought the pink bottle up into the air. Trading his vision between the fox and the repellent, his wiggled it around in his hooves. "And this is legit?"

"You can't test it on me, if that's what you're asking," Nick replied simply.

He narrowed his eyes at Nick. After a moment he looked down at the open box that housed enough repellent to arm a small nation, running his hooves over the top and prodding the sides. He looked up at Nick again. "These boxes are full, right?" he asked, the cracks in his suspicion having already formed.

Nick smiled wider. "If you want, we can dump it all in a plastic tub one layer at a time so you can make sure."

Fred sighed, sticking his sample in the open space that it was once housed in. "No, that's fine," he said. "I'll take two." Reaching into his back pocket, he brought out a checkbook and a pen, but halted the movement when the fox raised on of his paws.

"I'm afraid we're a cash business," Nick informed him.

One of the antelope's cream eyebrows rose into the air. "Cash?" asked, the suspicion returning to him almost instantly. "How's that supposed to look on their quarterlies?"

"Cash and carry, Fred," Nick replied, waving his paw at Kevin. "My friend here has got an invoice for you that's all perfectly above board, we just settle the deal right here with some greenbacks." Upon hearing that, the bear disappeared from Nick's sight again to retrieve the invoice in question from the cab. It was a lie, of course. The invoice contained nothing but the names of fake companies and phone numbers set up by Big.

Fred looked on plainly at the fox. "I usually do my own hauling when I do cash and carry," he said, glancing over at the bear as he rounded the back of the truck while writing something down on a clipboard. Kevin handed the clipboard over after he was done, the antelope taking it in his hooves quickly to run his eyes over the invoice.

"And you are today," Nick replied. "You're arranging for them to move from the back of this truck into your fine establishment. We could do it as a personal favor."

Scratching the underside of his long muzzle, Fred nodded his head slowly. "Yeah, I've got this much here," he said, gesturing with his head towards the back entrance of the store. "Grab your two boxes and follow me."

Nick smiled at him before turning to retrieve another box. With some effort, Nick went on to slide one of the heavy boxes away from the wall and towards the back of the truck, where Kevin had already closed the first in preparation. Once the second box was within the polar bear's reach, he lifted it like it was empty, sitting it atop the first to create a stack to more easily carry. The fox waited for Kevin to lift the cardboard tower to jump high into the air to grab a nylon loop attached the the roll-up door. His weight brought the greased metal down its rack, and Nick dexterously swung out into the rain so that the door shut completely behind him.

Spending no time at all securing the metal latch that held the door in place, Nick locked the padlock and turned to jump down off the punched steel bumper where the other two mammals were already walking towards the storefront. Fred opened the door and stood to the side for Kevin, who had to duck fairly low to even fit through. He walked through the door next, looking upwards as he passed through the doorframe so his horns did not strike it, and held it open for the fox from the inside. They made their way through your typical back entrance area, filled with boxes of all sizes and packed shelves of any number of items.

Fred led them towards the management office, and pointed for a spot adjacent to the door while looking at Kevin, who sat the stack of boxes down lightly. From outside the office, Nick watched the antelope write something down on the clipboards with a rapid flourish of his hoof, and moved to block his view as he punched a code into a glossy safe. It beeped at him and a heavy clunk shot through the cluttered office. He pulled the door open with ease, but continued to block the view of the two mammals that looked on. After a short time, Fred sat a stack of money on the top of the safe and closed it.

Taking the bills in his hooves, he turned them sideways and tapped the top of the safe to straighten them out. Fred took a brown paper envelope off of his desk and slid the cash inside before grabbing the clipboard and turning to the two waiting predators. "There's my signature and here's your money," he said, handing the envelope and clipboard over.

Nick passed the clipboard over to Kevin and flipped open the envelope, counting the denominations within. Satisfied after he was done counting it a second time, he stuff the brown paper into his jacket, sliding it into the interior pocket and sticking his other paw out towards the antelope. "Pleasure doing business with you, Fred," he said as he shook his hoof. "I know just who to come to first if this sort of thing ever happens again."

Fred hummed. "Depending on how much I sell, I'll keep you to that promise, Mr. Shaw."

Smiling at the antelope, and sticking his paws into his pockets, Nick watched Kevin unclip the stack of papers and rip the white carbonless sheet away, revealing the yellow copy with the same writing below. "Your copy," he informed the store owner as Kevin held out the white sheet. After Fred took the sheet and ran his eyes over the invoice one more time, Nick started backing away from the office, a large smile still plastered across his muzzle. "You have yourself a nice night," he spoke easily, receiving a nod from the herbivore.

Just as Nick was about to turn to leave, he stopped in his tracks, causing Kevin to cock an eyebrow at him. "Say, Fred, have you got a roll of quarters back there?" he asked, turning back towards the office where the owner still stood.

Fred's eyebrows rose to meet the base of his horns. "Quarters?" he asked, glancing around the office. "Uh, yeah, I think so."

Walking back to the over to him, Nick pulled out his wallet and retrieved a ten dollar bill to hand over. "Can I trade?" Eyeing him suspiciously, he took the bill from the fox's clawed grasp and held it up to the light, closing one eye to peer through the material. Nick raised an eyebrow at the action, finding it a bit humorous that he'd assume the bill was fake. "Do you really think I'd cheat you on ten dollars?"

"You could put it towards a forty, I'm sure," he replied flatly, making Nick's smile shrink considerably. Confident that it was real, he grabbed a paper roll of quarters and tossed it in the air towards the fox, who snatched it with one paw.

Nick put on another smile, thought it felt more forced than the others. "Much obliged," he said with a scout salute, turning away from the owner's blank stare and walking back the way he came. Stepping back out into the open air, the rain had slowed its assault, but the daylight had all but vanished over the city, night finally taking hold over the towering steel and glass. Huffing out a breathe, nick shook his head as he made his way over to the passenger side of the box truck, climbing into the cab with ease even though it was made for mammals nearly three times his size.

Kevin rocked the truck as he slumped into the driver's seat, turning the ignition with a printed key, the original likely having been lost or broken considering the shape of the old vehicle. Tearing open the roll of quarters, he dumped the contents into a styrofoam cup sat in a cubby below the radio, the coins clicking against each other as they fell into a cup already half full. The gentle patter of the rain drummed the metal roof as Kevin cranked up the A/C, the chilly fall air and rain still not being cold enough for a mammal that spends most of his time in a frozen wasteland of a district.

As Kevin was pulling out of the alleyway, Nick deposited the envelope of money into the glove compartment before leaned back into his seat, and continued his routine of staring out the window after every sale. The fact that this was illegal wasn't really bothering him, never has. What the laws said had never been the gold standard or morality in Nick's eyes. _Laws are like cobwebs_ , Nick recalled from a book he read. _They catch flies, but let hornets go free_. Some might think what was bothering him was that he was sitting right next to one of said hornets, but that wasn't the case either. The thing he couldn't vacate from his mind was those amethyst eyes back at Jumbeaux's Café.

For whatever reason, Nick had assumed that he could just throw himself back into the mindset of a conmammal if it meant he could come out unscathed on the other end. In theory, it was a perfectly reasonable assumption, as he had been doing it for twenty years. In practice, the easy smile and purposeful posture was making his stomach churn in ways he had never been familiar with up until this point. One of the first things he learned on the streets was that you have to believe your own lie to make it sound like the truth, but the honey covered words that came out of his muzzle grated against his conscience more than anything.

He was starting to wonder how he even managed in the past, though he knew what the answer was. It's the nature of surviving after all. After you come back, you look on all the things you did to keep going in a horror that just was never present when the decisions were made. Nick knew it was no excuse, but now that he didn't feel like he was just scraping by, he had the luxury to think that. At least, that's what he could be telling himself, but the gut-wrenching feeling of guilt for decades of what he was doing made it sound so much like an excuse. It's easy to reason away your blame, but when you know you knew better, it's never anything more than a lie.

Kevin was the one to break the reflective silence of the truck's cab. "You remind me of mammal that once tried to sell me automobile," he spoke out into the sound of the engine and rain, never tearing his eyes from the road.

Nick glance over to the bear, putting up a face of contentedness with a lidded smirk. "I'm insulted," he replied flatly. "I will have you know that I am far better than some sleazy car dealer. I'm selling more than you, aren't I?"

Snorting, Kevin slowed for a red light. "I am polar bear, not some slimy merchant," he said, turning to give Nick a hard glare once he had stopped. "You would find that I am far better than you in any matter that comes with strength."

Nick cocked his head to the side and looked back out his window. "All those big muscles can't take you as far as a clever mind."

"Clever like yours?" he asked, staring at the fox. "Clever mammal would have taken Big's mercy and ran. Better still, they would have not gotten themselves caught in first place."

"You didn't catch me, Kevin, never have," Nick replied, watching the light turn green out of the corner of his eye, prompting the polar bear to return his eyes to the road. "I gave myself up."

"This is problem," the bear said. "Whether arrogance or blind faith has driven you insane, or you simply have lost vision, I do not know. All I know is I will be glad when you are off prancing around with rabbit. Too much of my life has been ruined already."

Nick tented his brow up on his forehead and glance over at the mafioso. "You're a peach to be around, you know that?"

Kevin cocked the eyebrow on the side of his face that Nick could see, but kept his vision firmly planted on the traffic ahead as he entered a freeway. "Would you prefer I acted like I did when we were on hunt?" he asked.

Rolling his eyes, Nick settled his voice into a mocking tone. "Oh, please don't," he said with a smile. "You talked even more than you do now. It was no wonder you never could catch me, too busy monologuing in broken english. How is that learning going along, anyway?"

The bear let out a quick breath from his snout as his reply, remaining silent for a time. "I am wondering why you would ask me that," he grumbled. "When you have made it clear you prefer that I remain quiet."

"Don't be like that, buddy," the fox replied. "I'm just giving you a hard time. Really, I'm interested."

Kevin took a quick glance over to the fox, running his stiff gaze over the mammal comically small for the seat. "I listen to english audiobooks in spare time," he said, turning back to the road.

Clicking his tongue, Nick looked back out his own window. "The problem is you guys all still talk russian to each other. I bet you can go more than a week without speaking a word of english, can't you?" He waited for a reply, and when Kevin offered no rebuttal he continued. "You see? All you gotta do is just start speaking it around the clock."

Seeming to consider something, Kevin narrowed his eyes in thought. "I am disheartened," he finally said.

"You just have to have a little dedicat-"

"No, not that," Kevin said, cutting Nick off and making him turn towards the bear. "I am disheartened because I am to blame for Big changing his mind. If I had told you to keep recorder, or just kept mouth shut, you might be block of ice right now."

Nick's face betrayed none of his thoughts. "Do you want me dead that much?" he asked carefully, watching the bear's reaction.

"I would certainly not be in truck right now with you," he replied.

The cab fell into an uneasy silence after than, and Nick turned away from the mafioso to watch the city fly by below the elevated freeway. Kevin was taking the city loop on the fox's request, sending them closer to the southwest side. The city always looked strange to Nick from inside a car, having walked almost every inch of the streets below more times than he could count. Maybe it was just because he had spent so much time in the cracks and alleys that hid just below the surface that the face of the city never looked right. Maybe it was just because he prefered the open air. The thought served its purpose as a distraction all the same.

It wasn't until Kevin turned off the freeway into the southwest side proper that the silence was broken. "What were you going to say?" Kevin asked, breaking Nick's train of thought.

The fox lifted his head from where it was resting on his paw propped up by his elbow and looked over to the bear with one eyebrow raised. "What?"

"In recording," he clarified. "You stopped before saying something. What were you going to say?"

Nick stared blankly at the bear, thinking about the unfinished statement at the end of the recording. For the life of him, he couldn't remember what he was going to say. "I don't know," he replied, shrugging.

Kevin hummed. "There is betting pool," he said after another moment of silence. "Other bears think you are going straight because rabbit has been giving you sex."

Nick made a noise somewhere between a groan and a sigh, turning back to look out his window with an irritated expression. "Can you explain to me why mammals keep thinking that? Is it so weird that we're just friends?"

"Recording does not sound like words to friend," he replied simply. The two predators sat in the background noise of the city and the rain for a time, traffic thinning out the more they ventured into the ever more decrepit neighborhoods. "It does not matter to me. I tell them they are wrong. I would have smelled it if it had any truth," Kevin spoke in a bored tone. "As to why mammals think such things, maybe it is because it is easier to believe it is relationship of lust than true friendship between fox and rabbit. I cannot say which one is worse, myself."

Nick scoffed. "Let's just drop it, okay?" he asked with an edge settling into his voice.

Kevin glanced over to the fox, studying him as he looked out the window. "When hit went out, Ray wanted to sit outside ZPD," he said reflectively. "He thought that you would try to trade freedom for protection, and possibly give up our people within politsiya. I thought it was waste of time, because I believed you were not a rat no matter the hit. I was right of course, and bears sat outside ZPD for two weeks doing nothing."

"Even faced with death and dismemberment you remained honorable, and that is good." The bear watched Nick as he turned to match his gaze, and gave the smaller mammal a hard glare in the absence of having any other way to convey his seriousness. "This is how I know you have become informant for other reasons. You would not be doing this now if you were not telling truth."

Nick considered Kevin's words for a time, allowing the truck to revert back to the relative silence. "Are we friends, Kevin?" he finally asked.

Kevin shrugged. "We have both threatened each other's lives," he said flatly. "I do not know how good of friends we can be."

Chuckling to himself, Nick turned his gaze back outside the passenger window absentmindedly. "Yeah," he said softly. "I suppose not."

The truck weaved through the weathered streets, their only company as they drove being the suspicious glares from the hardy mammals that kept to themselves in the quasi-district. The southwest side was know for many things, being a cesspool of criminals and slumdogs amongst them, but almost every living thing on this side of town was too busy to be breaking the law. They worked their crummy jobs from dawn to dusk, and returned to the beaten down dens only to eat a TV dinner and watch reruns on basic cable. Nick found he could relate to them far more than mammals from any of the other district, which, in hindsight, didn't sound that great.

Nick was lost in his own thoughts when kevin pulled up to a familiar curb, a decrepit tiled brick awning hanging above a collection of beaten payphones just outside the fox's window. He was roused from his thoughts when Kevin broke the silence. "This is where you wanted to be left, yes?" he asked, making Nick glance around to see where he was.

Nick nodded. "This is good," he said, picking up his heavy cup of change.

He was about to open his door when the bear spoke again. "When you call girl, do not tell her Koslov said hello," he said. "She has been the reason you are still alive twice now."

"More than that," Nick corrected him with a raised eyebrow, wondering where he was going with it.

Kevin rested his strong paws on the top of the steering wheel, twisting the gold ring around his finger absentmindedly. "In any case, I do not want you to tell her anything more than she already knows," he said, continuing on. "If words you used in recording are from heart, I think you owe her to not get caught in your mess."

Nick stared blankly at the bear. "Who are you and what did you do with Kevin?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

He did not turn to meet the fox's gaze, instead just staring at his ring as he continued to rotate it around his white furred finger, his sharp claws ticking off of the polished metal every rotation. "When I came here," he said slowly. "I found myself in similar mindset to rabbit when she arrived, at least from what you have told me. The mammals of my motherland did not concern themselves with self-determination, and I was destined to become same as my father, a simple carpenter."

Kevin looked out his own window at the boarded up windows of the building across from the payphones. He lamented the memory quietly for a time, never meeting Nick's studying gaze. "I moved here to find new life, but I only found _zhivotnoye gorod_ , Zootopia. The city with two faces," he spoke plainly, but his voice frayed at the edges, losing its usual hard tone. "Big gave me purpose after long years of struggle, and I owe Family everything. I take no pleasure from what I do, but I do it because family is most important."

"Even at the expense of others?"

"That is world we live in," he replied, shrugging his shoulder and finally turning to meet the fox's piercing green eyes. "Everything is at expense of others. You think it crazy that I would do anything for Family, that I do the things that I do for Family, but are you not doing same thing? Trying to repay an unpayable debt always seems crazy to mammals that do not understand, but I have been doing it long time."

Nick hummed, narrowing his eyes at the mafioso. "You have a pretty strange choice in family, if you don't mind me saying."

A crooked smile crept its way over the polar bears face, obviously amused by the fox's words. "Not as strange as yours," he said in a tone Nick, and probably anyone else, hardly ever heard come from the bear. The smile remained as he glanced out his own window again. "You sometimes find yourself in deepest debts, Nicholas, when you are not looking to borrow, and you do not choose lender, they choose you."

Considering the bear's words, Nick looked at the radio clock, finding it was only eight. He didn't have to call Judy for another thirty minutes. "Do you wish you stayed where you were born?" he asked, looking at the time in thought.

" _Odin v pole ne voin_ , Nicholas," he replied in his native tongue. "Not even a fox can be alone forever."

Nick gave the mafioso one more look before taking his heavy styrofoam cup and popping open the passenger door. "I'll see you tomorrow morning," he said, jumping down onto the wet sidewalk with a small splash, soaking the shins of his fern-green suit. Nick pulled out his teal and blue gym bag from underneath his seat and tossed it over his shoulder.

"You did good," Kevin called to him before he shut the door. "You are right in saying we will be done before lunch. Tomorrow is your last day in being criminal. Maybe you should make most of it."

"No," Nick replied, shaking his head. "I actually cannot wait to be over with this."

"You need to find hobby," the bear said. "You will lose girl if you do nothing but talk for a week."

Nick scoffed. "I'll keep that in mind," he replied sarcastically, shutting the door and taking a few steps back into the rain. Remaining where he was, the fox watched Kevin pull away from the curb and down the street, the taillights shrinking into the distance before the bear turned down a different road, disappearing from view. There was a long moment where Nick just stood still, letting the rain soak the shoulders of his green suit and red fur. He closed his eyes to the world, allowing himself to drift in the sea of noise and smells around him. The sun was gone now, and the night had taken its final victory over the light until sunrise.

Adjusting the strap of the gym bag hanging off his shoulder, Nick slowly reorientated himself as his eyelids opened, the abandoned buildings shrouded in darkness and the pitiful amount of light coming from a few streetlamps once again filled his vision. It was a sight and atmosphere that he was all too familiar with. The quasi-district had been his quasi-home for a long time, and the sights that would make most mammals nervous made Nick feel at easy. The way that nature reclaimed the abandoned industry and old brick buildings was comforting in a way that polished steel and whitewashed drywall could never dream to be.

The rain continued to batter the small mammal until he slowly backed his way underneath the protection of the decrepit awning, which smelled more like mold and moss than it did the day before. Carefully, Nick stuck one of his claws into the soaked, mold covered four-by-fours that held the brick tiled awning up to test its strength. His eyebrows rose high on his forehead as his claw disappeared into the wood with ease, pulling it out to see a distinct hole in the face of the wood. Green eyes carefully followed the beam upwards, his head ducking down the higher his eyes ventured only to find the underside of the awning in the same state as yesterday.

Shaking his head, Nick turned to the payphone and sat his heavy cup of quarters down on the fixture made for his size, and dropped his gym bag down onto the ground in front of it. It was still some time before he had to call, but his paws moved on their own, simultaneously plucking the pawset off the fixture and retrieving a pair of coins from their styrofoam container. _No point in waiting_ , Nick thought. _She's just going to think I was sitting around for the half hour to roll around anyway_. Which was a good enough of a rationalization as any to Nick. Really, he just felt like talking to her after the day he had.

The coins clinked against metal all the way down the interior of the payphone before landing loudly on the pile inside. Punching the pound sign followed by the phone number he had committed to memory, the pawset rung against his ear as he settled against the wall, facing out into the falling rain. The storm seemed to be slowing now, with each passing day bringing less water than the last. A short lived respite, if the weather mammal was accurate. It would seem they believed the storm was going to pick up one more time before finally tapering off.

The ringing was cut short by the sound of the call be answered. "Officer Judy Hopps," a delightful voice sang over their airwaves.

Nick did all he could to keep his tail from wagging. Her voice was having a stronger reaction from him then he would have liked, but anything to take his mind off all the lies was good, as far as he was concerned. "Scoundrel Nick Wilde," he replied easily, a smile creeping up his muzzle.

"Nick!" Judy cheerfully called, a smile instantly present in her voice. "You're early."

Nick hummed. "You know how payphones go," he replied. "I got here early and I'd just be waiting around if I didn't go ahead and call. I'm not catching you at a bad time, am I?"

"It's fine. I just got done with supper, and my arms are noodles," she said, the sound of her face scratching against the phone as she pulled it away filling the pawset. "I'm going to put you on speakerphone so I don't have to hold them up." A loud beep rung through, followed by the static and background noise tripling in severity as the cellphone's receiver adjusted to the speakerphone setting.

Nick could hear her sit the phone down on a surface, shoving some stuff out of the way to make room. From the sound of things, she wasn't out in the barn. _Must be in her room_ , Nick thought. "Hot shot cop wore out her arms?" he asked before his smile shrunk considerably and his tone shifted to the point of bordering worry. "You've been staying off your leg, right?"

"Yes, _mother_ , I've been staying off my leg," she answered, and he could practically hear her eyes rolling. "I was on cutting board duty, and chopping vegetables for a house of more than two hundred is the worst. The storm knocked the power out and apparently the automatic dicer isn't worth the fuel." She grumbled as she was messing with something on her desk, presumably. "Says someone who didn't have to cut thousands of vegetables."

Nick chuckled. "Life in that commune must be a nightmare," he said. "I honestly can't see how you deal with it."

Judy hummed into the receiver, her high voice cutting through Nick's ears with ease. "It's just something you get used to, I guess," she replied. "That and bunnies probably have a natural disposition to it."

Throwing his elbow over the top of the payphone fixture, Nick kicked up one of his legs up as he leaned into it. "I wouldn't doubt it," he confessed, relaxing further into his position. "You don't really strike me as someone they'd rope in to help with cooking, Fluff."

A giggle played over the speaker, making Nick's smile grow. "Oh, they don't let me near any of the stoves or ovens. I can nuke a mean cup of ramen, but I am absolutely helpless when it comes to following the recipes in a book."

Nick snorted at her. "How'd you survive on your own for two whole months? And don't tell me you lived off _ramen_."

He could hear her shuffling some papers around on the other side of the line. "And here's where you tell me you're living the high life with gourmet meals with organic produce, right?" she asked. "It was takeout mostly, I'll admit it. Bar food, premade soup that I just had to heat up, lots of timothy, that sort of thing."

The mention of timothy caused Nick to cock an eyebrow with a smarmy smile. "Lots of grass, you mean?"

"I think if I didn't have what it takes to be a cop, I would have been a doctor," she answered him, taking a casual tone. "Then I would have been able to make the world a better place by extolling the virtues of, yes, _eating grass_." Her words grew more sarcastic the more she went on. "Like staying healthy, feeling great, and not developing a whole host of dietary problems when you're only fifty because you prefer eating sugar-filled carrots instead of what your body _needs_."

"Alright," Nick said with a chuckle, raising the paw he had hanging over the fixture even though she couldn't see it. "Sounds like I hit a sore spot. I'm keeping the nickname, though. 'Grass' does not even sound a fraction as good as 'Carrots'."

"You could always call me by my name, Slick."

"I'll think about it," he said softly. "So, what kind of juicy burrow gossip have you got for me?"

"It might not be what you're after," she singsonged, tapping something against the face of her desk.

Nick raised his brow as he continued to watch the water fall onto the street. "What do you mean?"

"The talk of the burrow just so happens to be you, Slick," she answered him in a playful tone.

"Me?" Nick asked incredulously, standing up from his leaning position and placing his paw on his chest. "What did I do?"

Judy hummed lightly. "What were your words?" she questioned rhetorically. "You're a fox that drove a wounded bunny six hours out of the city? A lot of the mammals around here seem to think it was even weirder than you did. You wouldn't _believe_ the kind of questions I have been getting."

Nick snorted loudly, pacing in front of the fixture and kicking at the water absentmindedly. "Well, you'd be surprised."

"I'm serious, Nick," she said in a tone that didn't even begin to convey seriousness. "My sisters are absolutely crazy, and they can ask some of the most obscene stuff you have ever heard with a straight face. It's unbelievable."

Stopping his pace, he scanned his eyes up around the underside of the awning, double checking the fact that it wasn't about to fall on him. "I can't be the only thing on the wagging tongues over there," he replied, running his paw over the four-by-four again; this time, a significantly less rotted chunk was present. "Is it so boring that I'm really the big news?"

"Yes. Yes, it is," she said plainly. "Really, though, you've built up quite the mythology. With Jess going around talking about how she saw you skulking around in the dark and Ellie swooning about how you complimented her ears, you're equal parts Casanova and burglar over here."

"You're pulling my chain, Carrots," Nick finally replied, shaking his head. "I know it."

"Maybe," she answered breathily. "Ellie seems to like you, though."

Nick scratched the back of his neck, running his claws through his coat. "I can't take full credit for that," he said. "It's not like I can tell the difference in bunny ears."

Judy was quiet for a time. Nick was starting to wonder if she was still there when he heard a thump on the other side of the phone. "Rabbits can be such harpies sometimes," she said, and her voice was so close to the microphone that Nick had to twist the volume knob again. "So thanks for being completely oblvious for my sister, Slick." He could only guess that she had lain her head down on her desk facing her cellphone. "It's good for her to get a little reassurance from someone that's not family."

Nick drank the silence in, enjoying his present company for the first time that day. Sticking the pawset between his head and shoulder, Nick pulled his green suit jacket off. "Casanova, huh?" he asked, taking the jacket by the collar and draping it over the smaller payphone fixture next to him. "Are those your words, or…?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Judy said, giggling. "You can thank Hare, and I think it was meant as an insult."

"Ouch," Nick said, wincing playfully before his lidded smile returned to him. After he was done rolling up the sleeves on his cream colored dress shirt, he took the pawset back from his shoulder, pulling down on the knot of his tie with a clawed index finger. "If we're done talking about your siblings, how's your day been?"

"Busy," she replied. "The storm has been wreaking havoc over here, and I've been trying to do what I can to help out." Nick could hear her scraping circles into her desk with her blunt claw as he unbuttoned his collar. Judy dragged the silence on, the rhythmic sound of her claw drawing circles filling the air between them. "You know, the driveway flooded yesterday," she said softly.

Nick cocked an eyebrow as he leaned back into the wall, throwing one arm back over the fixture. "You were being serious about that?"

"Yeah," she said, sighing. "Maybe I was a little hopeful then; it doesn't really flood until a couple straight days of rain. Maybe if you were stuck over here you wouldn't be…" Her words trailed off and her finger stopped its motion, causing the line to fall into a static filled silence. Nick waited for her to continue, but the moments dragged on. He could hear her chair creaking as she sat back up in it.

"So, anyway," she chirped, her tone having taken a completely one-eighty to the point that Nick tented his brow up on his forehead. "I've just been sitting around most of the day. My mom has been hanging over me like a mother hen, so I have barely got the chance to walk around the room for a minute."

She wanted to drop it, that was obvious enough. _Well, she did say we weren't going to talk about that today_ , he thought. "Does it still hurt?" he asked, offering no resistance in the change in topic. She didn't want to think about it any more than he did, Nick could only imagine.

"No, not really," she answered him, the sound of her riding up her pants to look at her bandages accompanying her voice over the airwaves. "It itches, but that's about it."

Nick nodded slowly. "That's good to hear."

"I still have your handkerchief, by the way," she said after a moment of silence. "I washed all the blood out of it."

"That's good. I've been missing the stupid thing," he replied. "I keep reaching into my pocket only to find that it isn't there."

Judy hummed, and again the line wound down into silence. "Can I ask you a quid pro quo?"

Nick raised his brow as he ran a paw down the length of his tie, brushing off some dust. "Oh?" he asked. "We're still doing that, huh?"

"I want to," she replied softly, "Do you?"

A tone played in Nick's ear, making him deposit two coins into the machine. "It's fine by me," he said casually. "Ask away."

"Why did you keep it?"

The smile on Nick's face evaporated in an instant. Rolling his head around he started chipping flakes of paint off of the rusting fixture without really paying attention. "My mother bought it for me, remember?" he said solemnly. "She wasn't too happy about what happened, and she tried to throw the uniform away even after putting so much work into buying the it. Told her there was no sense in throwing away some perfectly good clothes, especially when we couldn't really afford to buy a whole lot." Nick shook his head slowly. "I wore the shorts a bit, but I don't think I ever put the shirt or hat on again after that night."

Judy let a slow breath through her nose, and Nick could hear her chair creak as she slumped back into it. "Did anything ever happen to those kids?"

"The troop leader or whatever he's called stripped a couple of them of some badges or something, but that's all I ever heard about," he replied, recalling the aftermath of what had happened.

"You know, there was a group out here called the 'Bunny Scouts'," Judy said with a tone Nick guessed was an attempt at lighthearted. "When I was a little kit I joined them thinking I was going to help mammals and do good deeds. Turns out all you do is sit outside a supermarket and hawk cookies. I think I lasted for about a week before I blew up on this shrill old goat that ran the thing, and she had some choice words for my parents." She let out a dry chuckle. "Not a great week, let me tell you."

After a stint of silence, Judy got flustered, tripping over her own words. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I thought that would make you feel better about it-"

"No, no," Nick said, cutting her off. He waved his paw despite her not being able to see it and widened his smile. "I want to hear this. Tell me what happened."

"Really?" she asked hopefully.

"Really."

"Well," she replied slowly, her voice growing into the story. "We were standing outside this supermarket in Bunnyburrow, and this cougar - must have been in her seventies - came walking out with her arms full of bags. I wanted to go help her, but the old goat told me to stay put, and asked me how I was supposed to help her when most of the bags were bigger than me. Naturally, I asked what was the point of being a Bunny Scout if all we did was sell cookies and not help mammals in need. I think she called me a 'naive little brat' after that, and I just stormed off towards the cougar as she yelled after me."

She laughed at the memory. "I could only carry one bag," she said in an air of reminiscence. "And I was so out of breathe by the time we got to her car I was practically gasping for air. I was pretty sad I couldn't do more, but she just told me she was grateful that I tried to help, and that I made her day."

Nick could hear the smile in her voice, and she started lazily drawing circles with her blunt claw again. "I had this huge smile on my face when I walked back up to the cookie stand, but when I got there she told me I was being kicked out. She said I was a disrespectful little twerp that didn't know her place. She came to my house and went on this tangent. It got so bad that Mom and Dad had to literally push her out of the door."

After she was done recalling her childhood memory, Judy sighed. "You got me talking about me again," she said quietly.

"I like listening to you," Nick replied without thinking, and silently kicked himself for it. He pushed off the wall to stand in front ot the payphone, listening to Judy breathing. _Nice going, hotshot_ , he thought to himself as his ears pivoted backwards on his head. The moment of quiet continued between the pair, and Nick found himself growing more and more nervous the more Judy didn't speak.

"Well," she said quietly. "It's your turn."

Nick let out a breathe he didn't even realize he was holding, and slumped back against the brick wall. The familiar tone played in his ear. "What made you want to become a cop?" he asked, being very slow in sticking two more coins into the slit.

"That's kind of a long one," she replied. "How many quarters have you got?"

Nick glanced over to his heavy styrofoam cup, not even being able to tell the difference between now and when he had started taking quarters out. "I think we're covered," he answered plainly with his green eyes fixed on the enormous collection of coins. "How much battery life do you have?"

"I think we're covered," she answered softly, a smile showing in her voice. "It was back in elementary school. We were doing this play, and the script called for me to say I wanted to be a carrot farmer when I grew up."

"Perish the thought," Nick quipped.

"You should have heard my teacher," Judy replied. "She told me the thing I wanted to be had to be a _realistic_. I really didn't know what I wanted to do, but the way she put it made it sound like I had to do certain things with my life just because I was a bunny, and that didn't sound right at all."

"Then this kit…" Her voice trailed off, lost in the memory. "What was his name…? Bobby Kemm! Cheese and crackers, I haven't talked to him in ages," she said as she started drawing circles in the desk again. "He used to be so scared of heights that he couldn't think straight. Anyway, he used to get himself caught up in trees, and that day he climbed up onto a branch that was going to snap."

"They called the police, but I knew they weren't going to make it in time, and when I saw the branch snapping I got the idea to use the teacher's laser pointer to help him climb down himself. I was so relieved he was safe," she said with a sigh. "And Officer Sahib, a city cop that moved out to Bunnyburrow when I was little, told me I was a hero. He gave me this Junior Police Detective sticker and said I should think about becoming a police officer. I still have that sticker."

"Are you talking about that crumpled up thing stuck to the stuffed rabbit?" Nick asked.

"Yeah," she replied distantly. "I'm looking at it right now."

"How did the play go?"

"Oh, I said I wanted to be a carrot farmer through gritted teeth," she replied. "I got permission to do my own play for the Carrot Days Festival, though, and you can bet I made up for that crummy musical in every way."

Nick hummed. "Wish I could've seen it."

"Oh, I think Dad still has a recording," Judy said. "But you'll never see it."

Chuckling, Nick watched his tail swish across the ground absentmindedly. "I have my ways."

"If it's any less than breaking and entering to steal a DVD that was burned fifteen years ago," she said, scoffing. "Then you can kiss that dream goodbye."

"I can't believe you would dash my dreams like that," Nick said back playfully. "After everything that you had to go through."

Judy broke out into a fit of giggles, causing Nick's smile to practically split his face in two. Occasionally, her laugher would cause her to snort in a rather uncouth manner, which just made Nick's smile wider. When she had finally calmed down, she let out a contented sigh. "I can't wait to be back in the city," she whispered.

"It's not all it's cracked up to be right now," Nick said, glancing around the slum wondering when it _was_ what it is cracked up to be. "Riots have died down, but all the water and shouting back and forth has made for crummy traffic. I'd say take all the time you need over there."

"I've spent enough time here," she replied. "As much as I love my family, I need to get back out there and start making a difference again."

"The world's not going anywhere, Carrots," he remarked cautiously. "There will be plenty for you to try and fix when you get back, whether it takes you a week or a year."

Judy made a pouting sound. "Well, I'm not doing the world any favors by sitting around."

Nick scoffed at her. "You wouldn't be doing your leg any favors by rushing things, either."

"Yes, yes, my leg is injured and it needs to heal," she derided. " _I got it_."

"Hey, don't get snippy with me," Nick replied, a smile present in his voice. "The doc told me to not let you tear your stitches."

"Oh, so you _are_ the responsible type?" she asked, causing Nick to bark out in laughter.

He wasn't quite sure what he found to be so funny, but that didn't stop him from laughing so hard that his side hurt. Judy joined in with a couple moments of her heartfelt giggles, though whether she was laughing with him or _at_ him, he couldn't know. He was just happy to hear her laugh. Happy… It was a word that caused him to take a deep breath after he had finally stopped his jovial laughter. The sigh that escaped his lips was so foreign to him, he had a hard time believing that he was the one that made the noise.

"I take it back," Nick whispered softly into the microphone. "Hurry up and get better."


	15. Just my luck

_9:14 am, September 16th_

* * *

Nick licked the pad of his thumb, rifling through a stapled collection of papers as he sat in the passenger seat of the box truck. The printed spreadsheets' columns were filled with information: addresses, names, and phone numbers. The majority of the entries were crossed out; their place on the paper was discarded with a red strike running through them, and quick, untidy notes denoting how much stock went to each entry. The pair of predators had all but completed their list of potential sales, with their few failures having only been recorded as simple red crosses. Nick studied the few blank lines on the very last page, having already done so several times.

Unfortunately for the fox, the feeling of unease and guilt had grown considerably in his second day of the job, and his irritable mind was slowly contributing towards more and more failures. Nick sucked in a shrill breath through his teeth, eyes still running over the words on the paper, though he had abandoned actually trying to read them. If one more mammal accused him of illegal dealings, he was going to blow up, he was sure of it. The worst part about it, at least in the his mind, was they were _right_. He _was_ lying and cheating them out of money, and all the honey-coated words in the world couldn't wash away the pangs of guilt that made his tail tremble below his easy mask.

Nick let out a harsh sigh as he tossed the stapled papers up onto the dash haphazardly. Running his paws over the length of his long muzzle, dragging his face downwards as he went, the fox wished for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past few minutes that he could just crawl under something and shut the world out like he used to. _Just a few more hours_ , he reasoned to himself, hoping against hope that it was the truth. _Just a few more hours and we're free_. It was that thought that kept his easy, lying, conniving, cheating mask from falling; Nick found himself fighting for Judy's freedom more than his own.

It was a necessary evil, he reasoned, both selling fox repellent and selling counterfeit. In Nick's eyes, which one was worse was a question better left unanswered, and his inconsistent morals were doing him no good in coming up with a concrete answer regardless. If he was just doing this for himself, the fox had no doubt in his mind that he would have just changed his name and moved to a different city; there was too many variables and not enough assurances to take on a job that he found to be a personal affront in many ways, but he wasn't doing this for himself. It was lucky, then, that Judy seemed to give him the courage he needed to follow through.

They had talked well into the night yesterday, to the point of Nick having run through almost half of his styrofoam cup, which sat rejuvenated in a cubby below the radio. Nick stared at the white container blankly, his mind elsewhere. Maybe it was ridiculous, but he couldn't shake the thoughts that invaded his conscience, constantly reminding him of the rabbit that was nowhere to be seen. It occurred to him, after he had found himself back at his solitary bridge, starting out into the rain with the afterglow of their conversation quickly fading, that the fox had been alone for a lot longer than he previously thought, and she was a breath of fresh air that felt like the cleanest reaches of the sky, far beyond the city he wallowed in, came down just for him.

There was a moment, just before sleep took him, that he had believed it was all a lie, and he might wake up only to find he was trapped in the nightmare of his past. It was a fear brought to life in horrifying detail as he slept. Dreams of Judy, twisted and disfigured in a cackling indifference, putting the fox in cuffs after he had discovered it was all a hustle, and she only needed him for the case. He woke up screaming this time, not just gasping for air. It was something that hadn't happened in a long time, and the memory of his voice echoing off the damp, cobble walls rang in his ears still, well after the sound had faded.

There would be another time to dwell on his apparently tortured conscience; Nick still had a job to do. "What do we know about this guy?" he asked into the relative silence of the box truck, Kevin having been silently driving through the crowded city. The fox was staring out the window, so he couldn't see the bear give him a sideways glance between watching the road, but he could feel the consideration of the question, nonetheless.

The rain angrily battered the metal roof, the storm having returned with its full force once again. The bear scratched his chin as he thought about their next mark, though something in the way he paused told Nick there was more to the story before he even began. "Pig, early forties, he's seen around Tooth&Nail a lot," he replied with a grumble, shooting dirty looks at his fellow motorists.

Nick tore his eyes from the heavy traffic around them, glancing over at the mafioso. Coming into the third day of riots, most of the city was slowly coming back to life despite the heavy downpour, and the ridiculous amount of traffic, all of which perpetually went several miles under the posted speed limit thanks to the rain, was getting on the bear's nerves. "I take it he doesn't have anything against predators, then?" Nick asked.

Kevin made an agitated grunt. "I believe his affection only reaches as far as they are female, Nicholas," he replied with venom lacing his words. "The girls say he is pig, and not just because species."

 _There's your answer_ , Nick thought, studying the bear next to him. Kevin had always had a soft spot for some of the feminine ' _talent_ ' that made their way through Koslov's employment, and he had been known to do some pretty extreme stuff in the name of their safety. "Any illegal activity?" he asked, ignoring the fact that his accomplice had a personal beef with their next mark, something that was never good to do. "Drugs, contraband, anything like that?"

He considered the fox's question for a moment, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "He has sort of cigarette racket that we are aware of," he said, recalling the details. "He ships them in from overseas for pennies, and does not pay tariff. Beyond that, he is ordinary. We had look into his family life back in day, but he blinked and we did not go any further."

Nick cocked an eyebrow at the bear as he fixed the plain tie of his fern green suit. "And Big lets him get away with that?"

Kevin shrugged. "Right now, he is small time," he replied. "It is not enough for us to do anything about. The dock workers he is paying to get product work for Big, and they already say they 'lose' shipping containers from time to time to politsiya. We make money off operation regardless."

Humming, Nick turned to look back out his window, running his claws through the thick, cream colored fur of his neck. "Family life?"

"Wife, two children, two illegitimate children - different mothers, both born after marriage - and one grandchild," he said without having to think about it, giving credence to fox's theory that Kevin had been the one to check out his family. "He was born year ago."

That made Nick cock an eyebrow. A year ago didn't really sound like 'back in the day' to him, which was starting to make him worry. Slowly turning to gaze at the bear that kept a casual expression, the fox made a face at the enormous predator. "Why's he near the bottom?" he asked carefully.

"We have suspicion that cigarettes are not only thing he is doing," he replied, taking one of his massive paws off the steering wheel as he pulled up next to the curb and pointed. "Take look."

Nick's eyes followed the long claws towards a storefront down the street. "That's a lot of Fox Away advertisements," he remarked, his eyes rolling over the windows, posters, and signs all with a crossed out fox taking prominence in the pink promotional material. The location was not much more than a corner store, nestled on a busy street close to the Rainforest district border, but it seemed to have its fair share of patrons. It had quite a few right now, even, walking out of the store with plastic bags filled with weapons designed against his kind. _That's just peachy_ , he sarcastically thought to himself, his feelings never present in his lidded eyes.

"Indeed," Kevin replied plainly, throwing the truck into park and turning the ignition, never taking his eyes off the store.

"If he sells so much," Nick said, grabbing the list from the dash and waving it in Kevin's direction. "Why have him at the bottom?"

Kevin glanced over at the fox. "I do not like type," he said. "He reminds me of _vatnik_ back home: slow, filthy, and arrogant. I did not want him on list at all."

Nick scoffed, shaking his head at the bear. Kevin apparently hated the mammal's guts, so he had no idea why he was on _their_ list. Koslov had other mammals out doing this, so why give this one to Kevin if he obviously wants him dead? "You have a very high opinion of this guy."

A low growl came out of the enormous predator's throat, sending a vibration throughout the interior of the box truck. "He is brute and the girls hate him, but Koslov will not let me take him out of picture," he said while glaring at the store. "Natalya often speaks of how he likes to be too rough, but never pushes line too far." The bears nose scrunched up in hate, his dark eyes seemingly sinking further into his head as he stared out the window. "I would like nothing more than take him to cold room and show him what being too rough gets you."

Nick cocked an eyebrow at him. "Maybe I should go in this one alone, huh?" he asked carefully, making the bear tear his vision from the store to glare at the fox.

"No," he replied firmly. "He does not know face, and I want to get better look around." Kevin tapped his nose with one of his massive claws. "Put my nose to use."

Still skeptical of the bear's intentions, Nick thought over his options, which, unfortunately, wasn't all that much. "Just leave the talking to me, okay?" he said. "If he's been tangled up in Big's side of the line before, he'll get suspicious with that accent of yours."

Kevin hummed, though it sounded more like a growl coming from his massive throat. The silence dragged on as continued to gaze out towards the location in which the pig might be standing right now, and he twirled the golden ring on his finger around absentmindedly. "Do you still know sign?" he asked after a long moment of contemplation.

Nick cocked an eyebrow at him. "Sign language? Yeah."

Nodding, Kevin popped his door open and dropped down into the rain, causing the box truck to sway back and forth after his weight was gone. "Then I will speak with that," he said, glancing back at the fox. "Let's go."

Kevin shut the door loudly, and Nick's ears swiveled backwards a fraction. Chewing his lip in hastened thought, he was made more nervous by the fact that he still couldn't think of anything that could potentially stop a confrontation. The bear wasn't stupid, this Nick knew, but that didn't mean that he wasn't reckless. The way he confidently strode towards the store, abandoning Nick in the truck, spurred the fox into motion, jumping down into the rain and hurriedly following after the bear that was already some ways ahead. _Just my luck_ , he bitterly though, catching up to the polar bear. _This close to freedom and then_ this _happens_.

The fox was fixing his collar as they crossed the street, the large polar bear sticking his paw up intimidatingly towards a car that honked at them. Nick stole glances towards the front of the shop while straightening his tie, a frown forming on his muzzle. He'd see this shop a number of times, walking past on his way to do other things, and every time the plethora of Fox Away logos and stylized renditions of their products beating back a vicious vulpine made his stomach crawl. There was not many things, Nick believed, that still genuinely got to him. Unfortunately among that list, however, was places like these.

Satisfied with the state of his dress, and hurriedly combing his fur down with his claws, the fox partook in his frequent ritual of snapping his jaw open and shut. The chattering sound help dislodge any lingering thoughts that stole parts of his face, and he was able to put up his magnum opus, the mask he wore all too well. The lidded eyes slid down into place, and the sick curl in his lips effortlessly shifted up his long muzzle, as if that was their natural home. There was something to be said about it, his mask; it was equal parts defensive and offensive, allowing him to utilize his sharp, green eyes in ways that almost never required a him to speak a word.

Another ritual, one that he had developed over the past two days, was when he stuck his paw into his pocket, grabbing one of the carrot pens that he had kept with him. They had not left his possession since he got them, and he found some comfort in running the pads of his paw over the rigged plastic. It helped remind him why he was doing this, and staved off the bleak humming that seemed to emanate from his mind. Some part of him felt warmed with the pen in his paw, and when he ran his thumb pad over the wavy carrot top that served at the clicker, he was powerless to stop his motor functions from obsessively clicking the writing instrument. It was probably more responsible for maintaining his mask than anything else.

Kevin gave him a sideways glance just as they reached the front entrance, running his eyes over the front that the fox put up with both distaste and approval. Just as he was opening the door, the bear similarly wiped his usual expression from his features, abandoning the incensed scorn for a look of apparent disinterest, almost boredom. Nick trailed behind the bear as they made their way out of the rain and into the building, shooting his vision around the store to drink in all the information he needed to make this work. It was a plain enough setup, barring the oversized section in the back, painted pink and excessively stocked.

Sitting behind the cash register, a rather dismal looking pig was reading a magazine. His stained shirt and unkempt brownish hair was all Nick needed to see to know Kevin was probably right in everything he had said. The way he scratched his paunch openly also threatened to make Nick's lip curl up distastefully. Despite his appearance, though, his store was rather clean, which immediately made the fox think he was underpaying whoever it was that had to go behind the boorish looking mammal. There was also no patrons currently in the store, much to his relief, as it was always harder to get a sale of this kind through when they had an audience.

Nick took a glance behind him while he slowly made his way over to the counter, seeing Kevin flaring his nostrils to the air around him. All Nick could smell was the pig and a deluge of cleaning products and scents from thousands of different factories, shipping companies, and paws. The smells might have been indistinct for the fox, not being able to make head nor tail of the quagmire of scents, but polar bears were much more adept at picking out what they wanted, a fact that the fox was unfortunately very familiar with.

When the fox returned his eyes over to the pig, he was staring right back at the fox with a blank expression. "Can I help you?" he asked in coarse voice, closing his magazine and tossing it behind him.

Nick smiled broadly at the pig. "Good morning, sir. My name is Todd Shaw, and this here is my associate, Mr. White," he said in an amiable tone, gesturing between the pair of predators that stood humbly in the pig's store. "We're representatives of a distribution center out west in Deerbrooke."

The pig traded his eyes between the two, mostly keeping them on Kevin, whom he was giving a rather distasteful look. He fixed his gaze on the fox after he was done evaluating them, and leaned back into his stool, crossing his flabby arms over his gut. "What kind of distribution center are we talkin' about here?" he asked without even an attempt to cover his suspicion.

 _Great_ , he thought, sticking his paws into his pockets with an easy smile. _I say one thing and he's already looking at me like I've been caught_. Nick strolled closer to the counter, speaking as he went. "We're in charge of the buyback product of a number of corporations," he said while climbing a set of stairs that led up to the counter, which were made for smaller mammals. When he reached the top, he threw his elbow over the scuffed plastic surface and leaned towards the pig. "We've been having a rough time over in Deerbrooke, and a number of stores have been closing down recently."

Keeping his blank expression, the pig's eye twitched an almost unnoticeable amount. "Sorry to hear that," he said flatly.

"Yes, it's a real shame," Nick replied with a contemplative nod of his head. "Regardless, we've found ourselves in a predicament over there, and we've got too much buyback to sell around the county." The fox cocked his head backwards and hooked his clawed thumb at Kevin. "We've been driving around the city for awhile, and when we saw your store we thought you would be a good mammal to ask." Searching the pig's expression for anything he could use, Nick found no such help. "Would you be interested in some discounted merchandise?"

The boar made a disgusting snorting noise from his flat snout, making the fox in front of him cringe internally. "What, are you tryin' to keep me in suspense?" he asked, his face twisted up in disdain. "Spit it out, _boy_. What _kind_ of merchandise?"

The vulpine had to suppress every comeback that came to mind in that instant, running his pads over the orange plastic hidden in his pockets to remind him what was at stake. Instead of the indignation the pig so deserved, Nick only smiled wider at the boar, his lidded eyes never betraying the storm underneath. "Fox Away branded fox repellent," he replied easily, not skipping a beat.

A crooked smile split the hairy face of the boar, sitting up instantly on his stool to place a hoof on either side of the counter. "Ha!" he squealed out, the guttural suid noise cutting through Nick's ears painfully between each laugh. "You're a fox, goin' around peddlin' repellent!" he said, continuing his fit of chuckles and squees until it sputtered out, at which point the pig ran one of his hooves under his eye, wiping away a tear. "Now I've seen everything."

Nick hummed happily, though he was far from it at the present time. "I can assure you, I am a businessmammal," he said, lifting his elbow off the counter to put his paws up in surrender. "I take business wherever I can get it, no discrimination. We've been handling all of the buyback in Deerbrooke for Fox Away for going on five years now."

Leaning over the counter with his hooves spread out in either direction, the boar lost his jovial attitude to a scowl that curled his lips dangerously. "Oh, I'm quite familiar with your _kind_ , Mr. _Shaw_ , if that is your real name," he said. "How much do you have?"

The fox's eyes narrowed slightly at the accusation, though he was quick to return them to their indifferent, lidded state. Nick could see what Kevin didn't care for the mammal. Reminded of his polar bear associate, he stole a glance behind him to see Kevin casually looking at a candybar wrapper. He was going to be no help. "Still got six boxes," he replied, turning back to the pig. "So that's a little over thirteen thousand."

A scoff escaped the lips of the dirty prey animal as he shook his head, a smile reaching its way across his unkempt face. "And that's standard packagin', is it?" he jeered, tilting his head forward.

Nick did not allow the mammal to phase him as he continued to give him a insouciant smirk, despite the fact that the gross mammal had leaned far into his personal space. "Repackaged," the fox replied.

The pig flopped back down into his stool, the metal backrest protesting against his weight, and stared at the fox with his lips still curled in amusement. "Really?" he asked.

Fighting a fidget that threatened to give away his impatience, the fox simply stared back at the pig and stuffed his paws back in his pockets. "We got them in large plastic bins," he said matter-of-factly. "A lot of stores had big towers of individual product on display, and they threw away the boxes they came in."

A dry chuck escaped the pig as twisted on his chair, and hopped down onto the ground with a heavy thump. "Well, isn't that interestin'," he replied, leisurely waddling around the counter to face Nick and crossing his arms. "I'll tell you what, red, why doesn't your friend here go get me a box and I'll have a look."

Nick stuck out his bottom lip and shrugged. "Fine by me," he said with a gentle nod. Turning to look at his associate, the fox found the massive polar bear to be reading one of the posters, still feigning disinterest in their conversation. He could see his ears were perked towards the two mammals standing by the desk, but he waved his paw through the air to catch his attention instead.

Kevin turned to look at the fox with his eyebrows raised up on his forehead, and watched Nick make a series of rapid paw gestures. _'Have you found anything?'_ Nick signed, confident that the pig was not well versed in the language.

Snorting, the bear just shook his head slowly before flashing a number of signals back at him. _'I can smell a couple foxes that came through here,'_ he signed. _'But other than that it's just cigarettes, booze, and his filthy hide.'_ Kevin cocked his head towards the door and gave Nick a stern look. _'I'm going to go grab the box. Watch yourself, more than one mammal has been sprayed in here.'_ With that, Kevin turned and walked out the front door, taking with him the candybar that the pig was not astute enough to see him lift.

"You haulin' around a deaf polar bear, red?" the pig asked as soon as Kevin was out of sight. "What's the point in that?"

Nick turned and raised his eyebrows at him, keeping up his lazy smile as he descended the steps. "I can't very well carry those boxes," he replied. "What Mr. White there lacks in hearing, he more than makes up for it in strength." Coming to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, the fox took a more carefree posture, his tail swishing behind him. "He'll be just a moment Mr…?"

"Joseph Corkton," the pig informed him, nodding his head. "My friends call me Joe. _You_ can call me Mr. Corkton, or sir."

Nick kept the contempt from his eyes as he continued to address the boar. "That's fine by me, Mr. Corkton," he replied with an easygoing smile. A moment of silence passed between the two, and the fox stole quick glances towards the door, both hoping for the mafioso's return and dreading the possible appearance of patrons. "Do you have any questions you'd like to ask?" Nick asked, turning back to Joe.

The store's owner seemed to consider the question as his lips moved around in a thoughtful motion. "Yeah," he finally said, drawing the word out. "How about… Where you got them."

Cocking an eyebrow, the fox pretended not to know what the pig was asking. "It's buyback from some closed stores out in Deerbro-"

"You already tried to sell me that one, fox, and you didn't do a great job," he replied harshly, cutting him off. "Now how's about you go ahead and tell me where you got them."

Nick's posture changed in an instant, his easygoing attitude being traded for stiff indifference, and his smile was quickly wiped off his face. "Does it matter where?" he asked in a flat tone. To an outside observer, it looked like the fox had simply abandoned his front completely, but the truth was Nick's moves were always purposeful, and his dramatic change in demeanor was an act in and of itself. Everything in his posture had a purpose, from the stiffness of his tail to the way his ears shifted back on his head, and from the looks of things, the pig had fallen for his act hook, line, and sinker.

"Oof," Joe said, cringing theatrically. "You foxes are somethin' else, you know that?" The pig rested one of his hooves on the checkout desk, leaning into the plastic top enough for it to bow under his weight.

Nick hummed flatly. "We all have got to make a living, don't we Joe?"

The pig shook his head slowly, smiling his collection of crooked, flat teeth at the small predator. "Makin' a livin' is one thing; your kin always seem to make away like thieves," he said with a dry chuckle. "Gettin' your paws on somethin' you ain't supposed to have, and then you turn around and sell whatever it is like you're doin' me a favor. Really, I gotta have respect. If I wasn't knowledgeable in your way of doin' things, I gotta tell you that I wouldn't have been the wiser."

Keeping his demeanor stiff as a board, Nick had taken to refusing emotion to reach any corner of his face, instead maintaining a completely impassive expression. "That's generally how I like to do things," he replied, the only thing of his moving being his tongue and lips.

Joe's eyes narrowed at him, though his crooked smile remained. He tilted his head to the side to give the fox a sideways gaze. "Be honest with me," he said. "How many suckers have you caught already?"

Nick knew he was losing him with the emotionless facade, so he opted to take a different approach. He sighed openly, relaxing his posture to some extent, though still keeping his ears and tail stiff behind him. He stole a glance away from the boar, looking to the door again for help that refused to come. "I wouldn't call them suckers, Joe," Nick said in the same impassive voice. "They got their product fair and square, even paid for it. They were simple sharing in the benefit."

Joe scoffed. "Repellent don't fall outta the sky, _boy_ ," he replied, again making a twinge of contempt run up the fox's spine. "Somebody had to pay for that merchandise."

"Oh, sure," Nick said easily, repressing the urge to growl. _If he calls me 'boy' one more time..._ Nick thought in bitter scorn. "Insurance companies did."

"Ha!" Joe hollered, letting out another irritating squee that only pigs could make. "That's why I like you foxes. The only people that ever get stiffed in your eyes is the damn insurance companies. You got ways of finding the bright side in sinkin' the damn city, let me tell you."

"Oh," he said in a droning voice, staring at the boar. "I could think of a couple."

"As could I, red," he replied, nodding. "As could I."

The bell above the front door rang, capturing the attention of both mammals, and Kevin walked through with a heavy cardboard box. Slowing his pace once he entered the shop, he glanced over to Nick, who began making rapid paw gestures at him. _'I've been made,'_ he signed. _'But he doesn't know we're with Big.'_ Kevin nodded slowly, his blank expression never changing. The bear made his way over to the counter and sat the box down on the floor, taking a few steps back once he was done.

"What are you tellin' him?" Joe asked, pushing off the counter and making his way towards the cardboard container.

"Where to put the box," Nick replied simply, watching the mammal take a flip knife from his pocket and proceed to slice open the packing tape.

Joe glanced up from his task of opening the cardboard folds to raise an eyebrow at the fox, trading his vision between him and the bear. "He in on this whole thing you've got going on?" he asked, nodding his head in Kevin's direction.

"What? Him?" Nick asked derisively, cocking his head back towards the bear. He waved his paw through the air dismissively and shook his head. "Nah, I just pay him some chump change and he carries around the boxes that I tell him to. Nobody wants to hire a deaf predator these days."

Joe snorted. "I don't blame 'em," he said with an edge settling into his voice. "Most of them polar bears are a bunch of punk, brain-dead morons, if you ask me. Nothin' on their brain but fish and the next lay."

Nick hummed. "He serves his purpose," he replied softly, not at all finding the pig's remarks agreeable. Most of him would like nothing more than to take the bear up on his offer to get the pig alone in a cold room, but his better conscience seemed to think that no matter how boorish he was, there was never an excuse for violence. That didn't mean he couldn't entertain the thought in his mind. He watched the pig run his hooves over the pink bottles that were stored within, examining the repellent carefully. "Take a look," Nick said. "It's all in order."

"So they seem," Joe replied, picking a bottle out of the box to examine more closely. "They do look a little weird."

"They came out of the plant up north," Nick answered, taking the lie from thin air. "They can cut corners more than the one here in the city because they only have to distribute to a bunch of podunk mudholes." He watched the pig run his hooves and eyes one bottle at a time before he roughly stuck his meaty fist into the box, the bottles being displaced to make room for the hoof that force its way through, allowing him to get a better look at the layers below by crumpling the cardboard. "We're charging a third."

Joe cocked an eyebrow at him. "You get these things for free?"

"All you need to be concerned with is that I got them," he replied with finality. "And I'm selling."

Shooting a quick breath out of his flat snout, the pig straightened up from his kneeling position to stick his hooves on either hip. "That's all well and good," he droned out. "But how am I supposed to know if these are authentic?"

Nick shook his head slowly. "You know the deal here, Joe. I can go down the block to your competitor and hook them easier than you'd believe."

Narrowing his eyes, the pig leaned backwards into his heals, crossing his flabby arms over his paunch. "Let me ask a different question," he said, gesturing down at the open cardboard box with one hoof. "If I sell these, nobody's going to come back around complaining about them, are they?"

"Not a peep."

Joe tilted his head down and to the side, squinting his eyes more at the fox. "And you're telling the truth, are you?" he asked suspiciously.

Nick sighed and turned away from the pig, glancing around the store. "Joe, I'm sure you've got your fair share of mammals complaining about the repellent you've gotten straight from the tap," he said abrasively, turning back to Joe and pointing at the box. "Each one of those bottles has enough firepower to knock an elephant on their ass; that's a promise."

Skepticism still permeated the boar's eyes as they stared at each other, neither backing down in their game. "Do you really think I'm dumb enough to try to sell a bunch of duds?" he asked, gesturing with his paw at the cardboard box at their feet. "Take one out and spray something, if you feel so strongly about it. Just know you'll be paying for that bottle and you can't use it on me or my associate. In fact, if you plan on using it, I'm going to have to tell him to wait outside. You know how sensitive bear's noses are."

Joe made another one of his revulsive snorting sounds and crossed his arms, giving the fox a look of abdication. "All too well, Mr. Shaw," he replied, allowing the silence between the two to drag on for some moments after that. "I'll tell you what, I'll buy this box for a fifth."

"You must think I'm crazy if you think I'll go any lower than two-sevenths," Nick said, scoffing.

"A quarter," he countered.

"Three-elevenths."

"A quarter."

"Three-elevenths," Nick replied harsher than the first.

Joe let out a shrill squee before descending into a fit of chuckles, his heavy arms dropping limply down to his side. "Have it your way," he said, relenting to the fox. The pig turned from the pair of predators and made his way back around the counter, which Nick followed by stepping back up the set of stairs. "I take it you're goin' to want cash, am I right?"

"That's correct," he replied as he watched the boar kneel down behind the counter, hearing the tumble of a combination lock below. Nick watched the boar carefully, poising himself with bended knees to be ready for whatever the pig might bright out from under the counter. Not being able to count the amount of times he had a gun pulled on him with boths his front and hind paws, the fox suspected just about anything could pop out in his hooves. "I don't suppose you want an invoice?"

"No paper," he said from below the counter, the sound of the safe being opened clacking through the store. It was a long moment before the fox could hear the safe being closed, followed shortly by the pig, with some effort, standing back up with a wad of bills in his hoof. He slapped it down on the counter roughly. "This right here should cover it," he said, retracting his hoof and beginning his slow trek back around to the open floor of the shop.

Nick retrieved the bills carefully, turning them over in his paw as he thumbed through them. A frown snaked its way across his muzzle when his displeasure was reaffirmed after a second count. "You're light," he said flatly, glancing up at the boar who had come to a stop just short of the fox.

"Damn foxes," he said, scoffing. He stuck his hoof in his shirt pocket and brought out another crumpled set of bills, handing it over to Nick. "Happy?"

Nick snatched the wad from his hoof, counting them several times before combining the two stacks and sticking them in the pocket on the inside of his suit jacket. "Not very often," he replied.

"Say," Joe said, stepping around the fox slowly, his eyes growing a cagey quality. "Are you stayin' here in town?" The pig waddled slowly, but it was clear that he was positioning himself between the two predators, facing away from the bear presumably because he didn't want the 'deaf' mammal to read his lips. Nick's ears perked slightly, shooting a glance over at Kevin, who was staring at the back of the pig's head, a scowl reaching up his long muzzle.

Nick's piercing green eyes returned to the boar. "Why would you want to know?" he asked.

Joe pursed his lips in thought, crossing his arms back over his paunch. "I'm just wondering if you'd like to make a little extra money on the side," he said joyfully. "I've got a couple friends that could use your help with a little thing I've got going on. You're perfect for the job."

Immediately, Nick grew guarded, his tail swishing in front of his hind paws and his ears turned back onto his head. He narrowed his eyes at the boar, though his attention was soon captured by Kevin making a gesture. The polar bear brought his paw up to the side of his muzzle, balling it up and twisting it forward twice like he was knocking; it was the sign for 'carrot'. The fox's eyes snapped back towards the boar, realization striking him. Easing his posture, Nick threw one of his elbows onto the counter and leaned back into it, sticking his other paw into his pocket.

Both carrot pens were resting inside, but there was no way to tell which one contained his message for Judy. Silently panicking, he traded his grasp between the two pens, running his pads over the plastic for any tell of which one was which, but found no such luck. The moment seemed the drag on as he realized he had to make a decision, whether Judy's message or whatever the pig might say, which could very well be nothing useful, was more important. Reason dictated that the boar could very well be soliciting something illegal, which having a recording of would prove useful. Nick grabbed the first one he could and started the recording. "I'm listening."

The pig rolled his head around his shoulders. "What with the savage thing and that time of year rearin' its ugly head, I thought my sales were going to skyrocket," he said. "Imagine how heartbroken I was when my sales didn't go up as high as I wanted them to. So, I got to thinkin'. How do you convince mammals that they need to buy some Fox Away merchandise? The answer is simple: they need to be _scared_ into it. A couple of my friends, all foxes like yourself, have been going around terrorizing some of the poor, defenseless mammals around these parts. It's worked better than any billboard, let me tell you."

Nick did all he could to keep his face neutral as Joe continued. He stole a glance at Kevin, who wore a deep scowl. "You get a cut of sales for every night you're out," he said matter-of-factly. "If muggin' is your game, then you can keep the plunder. All's I'm interested in is you scaring the daylights out of some prissy prey, and give them the idea to see ol' Joe for all their Fox Away needs."

"How big's the crew?" Nick asked, feigning interest.

"'Bout five foxes strong," he answered. "You can head out with them, or you can do it solo, I don't care."

Nick made a show of pretending like he was considering the offer. "Well," he said slowly, cocking an eyebrow at the boar. "How big is the cut?"

A crooked smile split the pig's face. "Taken out of total sales of Fox Away stuff the next day," he replied. "If you work hard, you will see the reward."

Nick hummed in mock deliberation. In actual fact, he had decided he officially loathed the mammal, and everything he was saying grated against his ears in the only way such callous calls for violence could. "You want me to terrorize mammals how?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. "You say mugging, but is that all?"

Joe simply shrugged. "They've done all sort," he said casually. "I really just tell them to scare the shit out of mammals and they oblige. B&E, muggin', beatin', grand theft, car strippin', it don't matter to me, they do it all." His sick smile grew as he looked at the fox. "You get to have a little fun that way."

"Sounds like a pretty good deal you've got going," he replied flatly.

"It can be," the pig replied jovially, nodding his head slowly and looking rather pleased with himself, something that just made the fox's disdain grow. "It can be."

A smile slowly inched its way across the fox's muzzle, his eye relaxing back into their usual lidded state. "That's nice to hear," he said slowly, the front of genuineness crumbling before the poison laced throughout. Nick stuck his paw into his jacket and threw the stack of money back onto the counter before trotting down the steps, coming to a stop in front of the pig and gesturing with his paw towards the collection. "There's your money back."

Joe furrowed his brow at the fox, his mouth hanging open in confusion. "What?" he asked, looking between the fox and the stack of cash.

Nick's lip curled upwards in disgust and he stared daggers at the pig with his piercing green gaze. "I'm standing here trying to sell you legitimate merchandise," Nick seethed, his posture reflecting his contempt for the mammal in front of him. Having got the recording, it was now time to make their escape, and leaving behind a box full of counterfeit was not the smartest decision in the present circumstances. "And you're coming back at me with 'hey, why don't you join my gang of mugging foxes, you know, because you'd be just fine with that since you're a _fox_ '." He scoffed loudly, shaking his head in a revolt that was quite genuine.

Gesturing towards the box still sitting on the floor, he went on in righteous indignation. "I'll have you know those bottle _are_ buyback from Deerbrooke, and this invoice here?" he asked, ripping the clipboard out of the polar bear's loose grasp swiftly and waving it at the stunned pig. "Yeah, it's completely real, too. I was just going along with it because you mammals are all the same, never thinking a fox can be anything more than some common hustler. You make me _sick_."

Surprise was quickly replaced with anger on the unkempt boar's face, and his scowl grew so large it looked painful. "Screw you, _fox_ ," he bellowed, watching Nick sign at the bear to pick up the box as he back away towards the door. He angrily waved his hoof through the air. "Get the hell out of my shop, and take your piece-of-shit polar bear with you before I turn him into a rug. You too."

"Nice," Nick replied, his lips pulling up as far as they could go as he bared his teeth. He gave the pig one final look of pure disgust before turning away from the mammal and walking away. " _Real_ nice."

"Have fun betraying your kind for scraps, you goddamn _pelt_!" he shouted after them as they left, Nick opening the door for Kevin as he carried the box out of the shop. "Real moral you are, huh? Hawking repellent like a good boy." the pig's grating voice followed after them as the door was shutting, the hydraulics hissing at them as they left. "Hey! I'm talking to you! Don't you walk away from me you son of a-"

His voice was cut off by the door closing completely, and the two predators found themselves walking through the rain in a sullen mood. Nick's ears were plastered against his skull, leaning into his stride towards the truck as his tail dragged behind him. Kevin was never more than a few steps behind, but they broke from each other when they reached the truck, Nick jumping up into passenger seat agitatedly as Kevin secured the box back in the storage compartment. The fox slammed the door and slumped into the seat in frustration, frantically trying to pull out the pens that rested in his pocket.

When he was finally able to retrieve them, he clicked the recorder on one of them with his thumb, a shrill electronic screech filling the truck as the voice was rewound. He lifted his thumb off the button and the electronic recording played over the platter of the rain. _'If muggin' is your game, then you can keep the plunder. All's I'm interested in is you sca-'_ Nick clicked the button again, halting the recording and tossing it into his styrofoam cup haphazardly. He brought the next pen up to his face in shaking paws, gazing at the plastic device hopefully. Nick slowly placed his thumb over the button, pressing the it down and filling the cab with the scratching sound again.

Nick's breath caught in his throat when he released the button. _'I'm glad I met you, Carrots. If nothing else, you made it all worth it for this old fox. None of it seems so bad anymore if it means I got to meet you.'_ Nick slumped into the seat with a heavy sigh, shutting his eyes and closing his paw around the plastic device he brought against his chest. He caresses the clicker in the shape of carrot top greens lazily with his thumb, his beating heart slowing as the moments dragged on. The fox took a deep breath through his nose, releasing it in a long, steady stream of air into the cab of the truck.

The sound of the back of the box truck closing brought Nick back into the present, and he sat back up, clicking his seat belt into place. After a moment, Kevin slumped down into the driver's seat, and shut the door quickly to keep the rain out. Neither predator spoke for some time, just glancing out of their respective windows. After a moment, the bear retrieved the keys from his pocket, having to awkwardly lift himself up in the seat to be able to fit his massive paw into his pocket. Dropping back into the seat heavily, making the truck rock with the weight, Kevin turned the ignition and pulled out from the curb and down the street, leaving the store behind.

"This is not right," he spoke quietly, shaking his head slowly at the road his eyes were fixed on. "Koslov would have known about this."

Nick snorted. "Probably does," he said agitatedly, glaring out the window as he pulled at his tie and unbuttoned his collar.

Kevin kept shaking his head, his scowl growing more and more by the minute. "It is game," he said, a growl reaching its way up his massive throat. "He is trying to trick me into making move. I do not know why he would do this when you are with me."

"He made the list before he knew I was going to be helping," Nick replied. "Whatever the play, it doesn't make any difference now." Nick tore his eyes from the window and snatched the carrot pen from his styrofoam cup, waving it in Kevin's direction. "We've got this."

"All well and good," he grumbled. "But that does not do anything if Koslov knows. Big would not be interested, and going behind Koslov's back to Big would not look right."

Nick hummed and tossed the pen back into the cup, still caressing the other against his chest. "Do you plan on doing anything, Kevin?" he asked, his gaze fixed to an invisible spot outside the window.

"Do not worry," he replied with an edge to his tone. "It will be nice and quiet. He will remain as missing mammal for long time."

Nick glanced back to the carrot sticking out of the top of his styrofoam cup, and slowly picked it up, turning it over in his paw. "You know," he said slowly, studying the orange plastic. "I am going to be heading over to the ZDP once we're done here." The fox looked up from the pen to the bear, gently waving it through the air towards the mafioso. "What do you say I act like an informant and inform?"

Kevin scoffed. "So swine gets cushy stay in penitentiary and walks after five years?" he asked, shooting a hard glare at the fox. "No thank you. I will deal with him myself."

The fox's brow furrowed. "And what about the five other foxes going around and hurting mammals, huh?" he asked.

"What about them?" Kevin replied flatly.

"I can't let that go on," Nick said, throwing the pen back into the cup much harder than he had before and pointing at the bear. "How much longer until one of those meek looking prey tries to pull something and someone winds up dead?"

"Not my problem," Kevin said. "I will take pig away from picture, and foxes will scatter to wind like they do."

"They're not going to stop doing it," the fox seethed, glaring at the bear with his piercing emerald eyes. "Sooner or later, these kinds of mammals _always_ hurt someone."

Kevin scoffed, glancing over to his passenger with a scrunched expression. "You are cop?" he asked sarcastically.

Nick pressed his jaw together, his teeth feeling the pressure of his clenching. "Do you really think I don't hate this guy?" he said with his ears splayed against his head. "Did you _hear_ some of the shit he was talking, or were you too busy getting into character?"

Shooting the vulpine a sideways glance, the bear continued driving down the street. "I am not looking for justice, Nicholas," he replied. "I am not politsiya. I am looking to send him into early grave. Short stay in prison is not enough."

"It won't be a short stay," he said exasperatedly, throwing both of his paws towards the bear in an effort to get him to listen. "RICO, Kevin. If I give the cops what they need, they can match eyewitness reports and put all six of them away for a _very_ long time." Nick slumped back into his seat and stared at him, his lips curled upwards in distase. "Conspiracy, aggravated assault, racketeering, the whole nine yards."

Nick pointed at the bear. " _You_ won't have to worry about falling into whatever trap Koslov _is_ setting up for you," he said before hooking the thumb of the same paw towards himself. " _I_ will be able to sleep better at night knowing there's not a gang of homicidal foxes walking the streets that I did nothing about." Nick then waved his paw through the air, gesturing wildly all around the pair of predators. "And _they_ will still get what's coming to them. Everybody wins." He blinked for a moment, thinking it over, before rolling his head around his shoulder in deliberation. "Well, except Koslov, Joe back there, those five foxes, and maybe Fox Away."

"You are asking me too much," Kevin replied, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. "I will not condone ratting, no matter circumstances."

"If Koslov is trying to play you, Kevin, you really cannot look at it that way," Nick said, pointing at the bear. "All you're doing is forgetting about the fact that I might have recorded some words spoken by some random pig. That's it. Besides, who is Amelia supposed to talk to if Koslov is looking to put you in a corner? Nobody else in that hellhole knows sign, I can tell you that for sure."

Kevin's expression grew into intense scorn, turning only long enough to curl his lips threateningly at the fox. "I do not appreciate that," he said, fuming.

"Appreciate what?" Nick asked. "The truth?"

The bear sucked in a shrill breath through his teeth, narrowing his eyes at the road in front of him. "I had thought you said you were done with this life, and you weren't going to try to trick me again," he said in a low tone. "Now you are trying to trick me by attacking weakness. You are just like Koslov."

"It's not a weakness," he replied harshly, making Kevin steal a glance over at Nick's serious expression. The fox had sat up in his seat fully, and glared at the bear with every fiber he could muster. "And I'm not attacking it." Kevin did not respond, instead gazing out the windshield impassively. "Who do you think is over there that is watching your back? Raymond? You're not some small time soldier that can get away with acting alone anymore, Kevin."

Kevin growled. "You were one that said it was weakness."

"I changed," Nick replied.

Glancing over to the fox again, Kevin held his gaze for a moment, searching his emerald eyes. "So you have," he said flatly, returning his eyes to the road. The seconds of silence dragged into minutes, and the truck remained silent between them. "Okay, Nicholas," he finally agreed, cutting the tension. "We will do it your way. Natalya has told me that she does not want me to hurt him, so I will do this for her. Take evidence to ZPD, but know this: if he has not been taken off street before he comes to Tooth&Nail again, he will not make it to door."

"That's random, Kevin," Nick said, cocking his head to the side. "Give the ZPD a little something more to work with."

The bear snorted loudly. "Just make sure he is arrested."

Nick studied the bear for a long moment, watching him weave through the traffic. "You can't protect them from everybody, Kevin," he said softly.

He glanced over to his passenger, giving him stern look. "Who else will try?" he asked.

Nick just scoffed and looked out his window, dropping the conversation. The morning light was grey in the storm, and the streets still ran with rivers of water. Nick's thumb ran over the length of the pen still firmly in his grasp, thoughts of the future prevalent in his mind, though the hooks of the past remained for just a few short hours more. He was so close, and then he'd be free. Free to do what, Nick still did not know, but he would be free. The fox closed his eyes to the world, drinking the sounds of the storm. "I think I'll miss you, buddy," he mumbled. "Maybe in a different life we would have been friends."

Kevin didn't reply for some time, and when he did it was with an air of reminiscence. "The girls will miss you," he said. "They were very happy to see you couple weeks ago."

"Yeah…" Nick replied, a smile creeping its way across his muzzle. He had always been on good terms with girls over at the Tooth&Nail, and he had spent a lot of time with them when he had worked for Koslov. Nick never could grow to accept what they did for a living, but they were all decent mammals nonetheless. "Tell Amelia goodbye for me," he said, turning towards the bear and opening his eyes. "And thank her for teaching me sign."

"You could tell her yourself," he replied flatly.

Nick nodded his head slowly, turning his eyes back out his window. "I might stop by…" he said, his voice trailing off in thought. "One last time."

After a moment of silence, Kevin spoke again. "In new life, I hope you find what you are looking for."

Nick turned back towards Kevin with his eyebrows raised. "Thank you, Kevin," he replied, attempting to make his voice sound as genuine as possible.

He shot a breath of air out of his snout quickly at that. " _Lybuov zla, polyubish i krolik_ , Nicholas," he said in his mother tongue.

Cocking an eyebrow at him, Nick tilted his head to the side. "You realize I can't speak russian, right?" he asked.

Kevin shrugged. "I simply said that you should show rabbit gratitude," he said easily. "As mammals are not often given second chance."

Nick hummed, grabbing the stapled collection of papers off of the dash and flipping through them. "Who's next on this list?"

"We've got eight mammals left," he said, taking one of his massive paws off the steering wheel to point at the stapled papers. "Next one is grizzly bear who runs self-defence store down street."

"Any criminal activity?" he asked, looking over at the bear.

A crooked smile reached its way up the polar bear's long muzzle. "He was arrested before," he said slowly, turning his eyes to give Nick a sideways look. "For attacking fox. He had to be hospitalized."

Nick scoffed, shaking his head and and fixing his gaze out his window. " _Great_ ," he replied sarcastically, tossing the list back onto the dash haphazardly. "That's just my luck."


	16. Maybe she's not wrong

_1:47 pm, September 16th_

Nick Wilde was a free mammal. From the dusty northern reaches of Tundratown to the seagull infested, crusty shipyards of the southwest side, Nick could walk unobstructed by the invisible boundaries of the city; his stride falling with a confident zeal, no longer having to concern himself with thoughts of mammals waiting in the dark or the unpaid debts seeking remuneration. The fox found himself breathing the air without worries of powers working against him, and he was without constraint, no longer finding importance in where we was or who might be around him; he was free to do what he wished, go where he wished.

Freedom had always been just within his grasp, waiting for him to take it, but it always held with it a price that had to be paid. For decades that price had been the abdication of all he had work for, though small, and the chains of being as free as the wind. The option to leave it all behind, the city he knew and mammals that lived there, was more than tempting so many times, but he remained. It was because of that patience that the fox found himself freer than the wind could ever offer, it was the freedom of his mind. He had shed the prison of his own thoughts, and the weight of the world felt as ethereal as the light of day.

So why then did the fox feel such unease simmering in the pit of his stomach as he stared at the structure in front of him? Nick lazily stirred his dainty cup of coffee in the umbrella shaded restaurant outside the Track building, gazing across the Grand Plaza at Precinct One. Maybe mammals often believed the heart of the city was the towering structures of the Downtown district, with the gorgeous flowing waterfalls that snaked their way around the bases of the magnificent monuments to mammalian design. Nick knew better, that the financial district was all face and no substance. The real heart of the city was a humble looking pond.

The Grand Plaza was the jewel of the metropolis, sitting as a lopsided circle surrounded by some of the most important buildings in the city: the unadorned sturdiness of Precinct One, with its faces of unbroken stone; the ornate architecture of the Natural History Museum, its beautiful blue domes and marble columns glistening in the rain; the arching simplicity of Central Station, with its spiraling green horns, and the towering majesty of City Hall, its brilliantly curved white granite arcing into a fine point above it all. Everything faced one tiny little pong, simple fountains spraying streams high up into the air.

It was said that all roads led to the watering hole, and in Zootopia, it was true. The small pond was more than just symbolic, it was ethereal. Some mammals even believed it was the center of everything that the city stood for, in its simplest form being a place where mammals of all sizes, creeds, and species came together in harmony, even surmounting the divide between predators and prey. It was barely two hundred feet across, yet it could still trump any grand architectural masterpiece that mammals could even hope to make. Which, at least in Nick's eyes, made it all the more funny when there was a crowd six thousand strong shouting around it.

The protest had not dwindled in size, much to the fox's disappointment. Sipping his coffee, he ran his piercing emerald eyes over the mass of mammals, his gaze rising above the signs and raised fists to peer at the rigid stone structure on the other side. Precinct One, a building the fox had never seen himself entering, and yet here he was, psyching himself up for that very task. The fact was Nick never traveled to this side of the city if he didn't have to, and even less frequently found himself in the Grand Plaza. It was, both figuratively and literally, police central, and someone of his reputation found no comfort here.

It was doubly irritating that the storm had found a second wind, and pelted the concrete, brick, and trampled grass of the plaza with a fervor. Nick found himself thankful for the simple umbrella that shielded him from the rain, and took another sip of his coffee, continuing his study of the plaza. The enormous digital screen the ran the height of Warren building lacked its usual carefree consumerist propaganda and Gazelle advertisements, and instead held a constant stream of ZNN, a news ticker slowly sliding past the lower third of the screen as the protests were shown live, towering over their very heads.

It was a surreal thing to witness as the fox finished the last of his porcelain cup, the sounds, sights, smells, and feelings of the storm, protests, and bustling city center filling his perception past his capacity. Nick likened it to standing in the midst of a hurricane, with everything around him seeming to blur together in an angry noise, but the spot where he sat remained almost tranquil. Sitting the cup down onto the cast iron outdoor table, he shook his head slowly at the shouting, disorderly mass with unimpressed eyes. Even after sitting there for some time, he still could not for the life of him figure out what they were shouting about.

"Would you like a refill?" a feminine voice said, breaking Nick's contemplation.

The fox looked up towards his waitress, a female deer that had been more than agreeable towards him. Blinking to regain his foothold in the present, he glanced down at his cup, which had been his third. "No," Nick replied, sighing and scratching the cream colored fur of his neck. "I think I've been sitting around long enough, actually."

"Well, thanks for coming in," she said, flashing him a genuine smile as she picked up his cup.

Nick hummed at her. "Oh, I needed it." He brought out his wallet, grabbing a couple sets of bills and folding it dexterously, spinning them around in his paw to where he was holding them with just two fingers, offering them out towards the doe. "Tips must be horrible right now," he said, giving her his usual lidded smile.

The waitress returned his contented expression as she stuffed the bills into her apron. "It can be pretty bad," she agreed. "I really appreciate it."

"Think nothing of it," he replied, jumping down off his iron chair and pushing the kinks in his spine out with both paws. "My mother was a waitress, and she taught me how to tip well way before she taught me how to read."

The doe giggled at him, and he waved at her as he stepped into the rain, walking in the direction of the crowd. "Be safe!" she called after him, waving back.

Nick smoothed out his new garish tie, having change out of his stuffy green suit before traveling to the plaza. He wore an all too familiar show of colors, with his indigo Hawaiian shirt accented by stunningly bright gardenias, woven into the fabric with a material that reflected the grey light perfectly. His dark blue slacks helped tie his dress together, but his trusty shades were still lost to him somewhere in the depths of Big's icy pool. He reminded himself again to buy a new pair as he arced his path away from the ZPD's grandest station, keeping himself on the outskirts of the protest.

Stalking his way around the frayed edges of the mass of mammals, the fox made a show of keeping his ears perked and eyes searching, having not abandoned his careful vigilance despite his perception of freedom. Careful situational awareness was not something that one could outright abandon, even if they he felt no rational need to keep a heightened awareness, and despite himself the fox still believed that many mammals did not share his inner thoughts of renewed integrity. Making his way slowly around the enormous congregation of mammals big and small, the fox was finally reaching the steps of the precinct.

The sturdy looking stone structure erupted naturally out of the brick walkways of the plaza, the unbroken rock standing in testament to the ZPD's steadfast public appearance. The columns of glass that ran the height of the front entrance were tinted to the point of being practically impenetrable by normal sight, and the stone towers that sat in between them acted as supports for the cemented rim of the roof, holding up the artificial field of grass. The entryway was crowned in enormous solid spikes of stone, jutting out of the building and over the steps that climbed up towards the base of the structure.

A line of Zootopia's finest stood stiffly at the base of the steps, wrapped fully in riot gear and shields that tripled the height of the small fox. A female elephant headed the middle of the line, holding in each massive arm a riot shield larger than her. The fact that the only mammalian characteristic on display was her truck sticking out an unbroken suit of armor added to the intimidation factor. Perched on her head was a wolf in similar armor, situated in a saddle made to create a vantage point atop the gigantic prey animal, who sat vigilantly watching the crowd with a tranquilizer rifle in paw.

Nick had to wonder at what point it became overkill, seeing as how the protester's front line was back almost thirty yards away from the precinct's steps, and they gave extra careful consideration to not giving the police any reason to think they meant them harm, the first ten yards of protestors sitting definitely on the ground. The fox made his way towards the line of officers with his paws raised slightly in the air, making it clear his intentions were to talk to them. He stopped just short of one of the mammals, looking up into the characterless blank visor of an officer's riot mask.

"Nick Wilde here to see Chief Bogo," he said calmly, keeping his paws visible for the suit of armor that scrutinized him.

The officer seemed to consider the fox for a long moment. After a time he brought up one of his gloved paws to his shoulder, tilting his head around to the radio he pivoted in the direction of his muzzle. "There's a fox here by the name of Nick Wilde," the suit of armor spoke hoarsely into the receiver, waiting for a response that Nick could only assume would go through an earpiece that he couldn't decipher. "That's right... He said he's here for the Chief."

Dropping the radio back into place, the cop hooked his thumb up the stairs. "You're good," he said plainly, moving to the side to let the fox through. "We're a bit busy today, so try to behave and stay out of mammals' way if you could."

"Thanks," Nick replied, climbing up past him towards the front door. "I'll let you get back to it."

When he reached the top of the steps, he turned to look back over the plaza. Nick was starting to think he had gotten himself stuck in a rut of seeing surreal imagery, because he was currently standing on the _other side_ of a riot line. The fox ran his paw over the top of his head, smoothing down his ears as he stuck his paw in his pocket. There was a lot of things he had never thought he would see, and standing on the steps of Precinct One with half of the police force's backs to him was certainly one of them. He drew his eyes over the crowd one more time, wondering what it looked like to all of them, a brightly dresses fox just walking straight through the door.

He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips at the absurdity of it, his lidded smile parting enough to show his sharp teeth to the mass of mammals. Shaking his head, he turned away from them and closed the gap between him and the door. Nick slipped in easily, noting the rather abandoned state of the main hall. The room was even larger on the inside, with the wide open reception area absolutely dwarfing the tiny kiosk that sat in the middle of the room, a lone sheep boredly tapping away at his work station within. From where Nick was standing, it looked like the entire force was away, leaving him alone in the room with the receptionist.

Nick looked up to the intricately designed glass dome that let the grey light engulf the space completely, and again felt himself impressed by the sheer magnitude of the building. He could see the rain patter off the glass far above, and the noise of the storm, as well as the noise of the protestors, filled the room. It was all separated into several floors, each one's balcony curving around the building's interior in waves with an unbroken piece of colored plexiglass, and the floors beyond were only separated by a partially transparent privacy wall. With the ludicrous waste of space, the impracticality of the building material, and the smell of gallons of scent maskers dumped across the floor, Nick was almost happy he never payed taxes.

The fox slowly strolled over to the open kiosk, making his way across a giant star floor mural that spread out the length of the reception area. A larger than life ZPD badge hung on another enormous rock that held up a circular light fixture, which reached over the entire desk of the same shape. _In the belly of the beast_ , Nick mused to himself, happily humming all the way over to the sheep. He stuck his paws in his pockets as he went, snapping his jaw a couple times as he ran his pads over the ridged orange plastic within. _You're on the same side, Nick_ , he told himself. _Just smile and be polite; these mammals work with Carrots_.

Coming to a stop just short of the desk, Nick raised his eyebrows and smiling at the sheep that looked down at him squarely. "Your name is Nick Wilde?" she asked plainly, her expression not giving anything away.

Nick was surprised at the gruff feminine voice, and a little perturbed by the fact that he couldn't tell she was a female officer, though he didn't show it. "That is correct," he replied with a gentle nod of his head. "I'm here to give my statement about what happened with the mayor the other day."

"Oh?" she asked, her eyebrows rising above her horizontal pupils, a quirk of their anatomy Nick never could wrap his head around. Taking a pair of glasses that hung around her neck, the receptionist placed them over her snout to look at the fox more clearly. "So you're _that_ fox, are you?"

"The one and only," Nick replied with a lazy smile, his lidded eyes watching the ram as she turned to retrieve something from under the circular kiosk. "You guys busy today?"

The receptionist laughed, giving Nick the time to peek at her tag. The name 'Wetherby' was embossed in a bronze nameplate across her breast, shimmering in the grey natural light of the storm. "Something like that," she said, shuffling through something under the desk.

Nick glanced back to the front door, where he could just barely see the tips of the protestors outside. He turned back to the kiosk with a cocked eyebrow. "I'm not catching you guys at a bad time, am I?" he asked.

"If we waited for a good time, we wouldn't have gotten any work done over the past couple days," Wetherby replied, sitting back in her chair while wielding a clippable visitor's badge. "The crowds thinned a lot, but they'll be here for a couple more days yet." The large ewe receptionist shook the badge about, brushing it off with her hoof.

The fox recognized her voice from somewhere, but he couldn't place it. Glancing around her desk, his eyes fell on a stainless steel dispatch mic sitting just on the front of the kiosk. Realization crept its way into his brain as he looked back up at the ewe that was fiddling with the clip of the badge. She was the new dispatch officer he had heard on his radio the other day while he was driving Judy's truck back to the hospital. "Don't jinx it," Nick said boredly.

A smile formed itself on the ewe's face, and she looked up at the fox. "Do you have any weapons or anything like that on you?" she asked.

Nick hummed. "I bet you asked that to all the guys," he said with a lazy look. He waited for her to stop chuckling before answering in earnest, shrugging. "A couple pens, loose change, a silcock key, some bits and bobs, that sort of thing. Nothing sharper than my devilish wit."

"Oh, I'm sure," she replied, droning with a warm smile. Wetherby handed the badge over the counter, and Nick took it, clipping it onto his shirt pocket. "Chief Bogo wants to talk to you before you give your statement. His office is on the fourth floor." She leaned over the desk and pointed to Nick's left, over to the side of the podium where they held the press conference. "There's an elevator just down that hall, to your right."

Nick nodded his head, flashing the receptionist a genuine smile before starting his trek across the enormous room. "Thanks," he called back to her, waving. The space was so large it took him almost half a minute of a decent pace to close the gap between the reception desk and the hallway's entrance, glancing at the show of awards and portraits that hung ceremoniously on the walls and inside trophy cabinets as he went. They reflected the atmosphere nicely, Nick thought, almost dressing the whole entry hall in their own perceived greatness. It was an ego that the fox couldn't bring himself to appreciate.

Somewhat of a surprise, however, was how quickly the facade of grandeur fell away upon entering the hallway. Lost was the massive chiseled pieces of stone and breathtaking scale, and in its place a muted, plain design whose fluorescent lights irritated the eyes. It was far more square than he could have possibly anticipated, and the lack of discernible features on the myriad of doors and offshoots reflected none of the personality of the main hall. The fox wandered down the straight path, reading the descriptives embossed on the brass plates the hung off the doors as he went.

Cork boards were covered in seemingly random pieces of paper, ascribing to causes and ideas far and wide, typical of your usual workplace posters and disclaimers but with added intensity. There was something to be said about the amount of borderline propagandistic posters that littered the walls as he went, though being in the heart of the city's law enforcement, he could expect nothing less. Still, it felt incredibly odd to him that he was walking freely through the station, heading up to speak to the Chief of Police himself. However surreal the details of his day was, what was more dumbfounding was how he had spent the very same morning breaking the law with such reckless disregard.

Finding himself standing in front of an enormous bronze elevator door, the fox looked up at the sleek metal, finding his own reflection the the polished material. The coffee had done much for the bags of his eyes, he thought, running his paw over his cheekbone as he studied his face. There was a moment when the piercing green eyes that stared back at him took on a distorted shape, one that had the fox staring back in thought. They reflected a blank expression, one that did not encompass disinterest, or boredom, or even the masking of turmoil just below the surface; they were simply blank. He was completely relaxed.

Nick's ears perked up, pivoting on his head as he heard a desperate panting behind him. He looked over his shoulder to find the source, but only saw an open stairway that led down into the bowels of the building. The panting and gasping for air persisted, and the fox was spurred into motion, cautiously making his way over to the lip of the steps to peer down into the building. A portly cheetah officer stood slumped over a stack of file boxes halfway up the staircase, his tongue drooped over the top box as he gulped down breaths. The vulpine's eyebrows rose up onto his forehead as he looked down at the predator, wondering why someone so fat would be a cop.

He trotted down the steps with his paws in his pockets, coming to a stop just in front of the overweight cheetah. "Do you need a hand with that?" he asked, bending down and tilting his head sideways to be on eye-level with the supposedly fast mammal.

The cheetah's eyes fluttered open at the noise, and he stared at the fox for a moment, his mind having seized up. Deflating with a dramatic sigh, the predator straightened out as much as he could, offering the top of the stack of boxes to the brightly colored red fox. "Oh, you'd be a lifesaver," he replied, still out of breath, smiling down at him. Nick took the topmost cardboard container, leaving the two below that for the mammal almost three times his size to get, and stepped to the side for the officer to lead the way. "These boxes never get any lighter." With a huff, and a scrunched up expression of intense exertion, the cheetah hoisted the two boxes into the air.

Nick passively watched the fat mammal climb the staircase with some effort, allowing the officer to overtake him up the steps. "Where you headed with this stuff?" he asked, trailing behind slowly.

"Third floor," he said with a strain in his voice. The fox took to the opposite side of the stairway, not wanting to stand behind the officer in case he was to fall backwards and crush him. Watching the amount of effort the mammal was putting into the ascent wasn't as amusing as he first considered, and now found himself believing the mammal that gave him this job must have just wanted to torture the poor guy. The fox even felt a tinge of relief when he was finally able to reach the top of the stairway, heavily dropping the boxes in front of the elevator door as he rested his paw on the call button. "Oh, gosh. I gotta take a breather here. This is too much."

Nick strained a smile at the cheetah that was gasping for air. "You carry this stuff around all the time, Spots?" he asked sarcastically, setting his own box down next to the elevator door. "You look like you have so much practice you're making me full of energy just watching you."

The cheetah, whose nameplate read as 'Clawhauser', Nick noticed, had placed his paws in his hips with his head pointed towards the ground, ears back and eyes closed. He waved one paw through the air tiredly. "Oh, no," he said, finally slowing his breathing. "I mostly just keep to the basement these days." When he opened his eyes and looked at the fox, he paused. The predator looked Nick up and down, his muzzle growing into a smile. "Say, aren't you Judy's friend?" he asked, pointing at him. "The fox from the press conference?"

"The very same," he replied with his usual lidded smile, shaking the paw offered to him. "I don't believe we've met."

"Benjamin Clawhauser," he chirped, bringing his paw back up to his hip when they were done shaking. The cheetah lifted his other paw and hooked his thumb back the way Nick had came. "I was the guy working the reception desk back then."

"Nick Wilde," he said, slowly nodding his head, thinking back to the press conference and if he had seen any enormous looking cheetahs. His dark eyebrows shot up when he recalled seeing the rounded mammal sitting behind the circular kiosk. "I remember you." The fox glanced back to the staircase that led down into the depth. He hooked his thumb at it as he turned back to the pudgy officer. "Why'd they throw you down in the dungeon, Spots?"

Clawhauser's smile faded at the question, his ears flattening out on the back of his head. "Well…" he replied, his voice trailing off as he glanced around the hall for an answer. "They didn't want a…"

Realization washed over Nick at the predator's reaction. "Ah," he replied solemnly, looking away from him. _Of course they wouldn't want a predator working the main desk_ , he thought. _Typical_. "Sorry to hear that."

The cheetah forced a smile, obviously put off by the fact that he might have just complained about his job to a random mammal. "It's fine," he said with a dismissive wave of his paw. The elevator dinged, breaking the tension as the bronze doors slowly rolled into each other as they opened. The two predators grabbed their respective boxes and made the short trip inside the car to sit them back down again. They each punched in the floor they were heading to on separate panels, both being made for their respective sizes.

"So I heard you helped Judy with the whole thing," he said cheerily as the doors closed, making Nick smile up at the predator lazily. "That's so great!"

Nick shrugged his shoulder, leaning against the wall. "It was nothing," he replied as the elevator lurched into motion.

The cheetah's jaw dropped at he looked at the fox. "Nothing?" he asked, stunned by the vulpine's words. "You two saved the city from a vicious little monster!" He waved his paws out towards the fox excessively, bouncing at his knees as he did so, before sticking both of his paws into his puffy cheeks. "That's amazing!"

The praise was not something the fox was used to, so he took to dismissing it with another wave. "What can I say?" he asked with his lidded eyes glancing around the elevator car. "Carrots did most of the work."

The small smile on the officer's face grew three times as large, and he looked to almost let out in involuntary 'aww' with how he wiggled in place. "Carrots?" he asked, his tail swishing behind him. "You guys are just _so_ cute, you know that?" His smile instantly dropped, and his posture locked up as he stared at the fox, wide eyes looking even larger by the fact that his ears pulled back against his head. His bottom lip quivered. "Don't tell Judy I said that."

Nick couldn't help but chuckle as he witnessed the panic in his eyes. "I don't know, Spots," he said playfully, his own tail swishing about. "My conscience tells me she deserves to know about it."

"I'm begging you," he replied, dead serious. "I'd get on my knees if I didn't have to get up again."

Barking out a laugh, the fox shook his head at the portly mammal. "Don't worry about it," he managed to say through his toothy smile. "I got your back."

Clawhauser deflated, his head falling limply around his shoulders as his posture relaxed. After a moment he smiled back up at the fox, immensely relieved he was in the clear and returning to his jovial attitude. "Really, though," he said, looking up to the ceiling of the car as he squealed, making the fox's eyebrows tent up on his forehead. "The way you carried her down those steps totally looked like that one Gazelle music video, where her tiger carried her down some stairs to a Lamborghini."

Nick scoffed and was about to reply when a thought occurred to him. "I didn't see you at the Natural History Museum," he said carefully, furrowing his brow and cocking his head at the cheetah.

"Oh," he said happily, not taking notice of the fox's confusion. "I saw it in the paper this morning."

Nick's brain fell into a deathly silence for a moment, having lost the capacity for cognizant thought as he stared at the cheetah blankly. The fox's head tilted to the side, his brain still catching up to the words that came from the officer in front of him. "Huh?" he asked lamely. _Paper?_ Nick thought, his brain finally chugging into processing the information he was given. _I'm in the newspaper?_

Clawhauser blinked at the fox. "You two are on the front page…" he replied, his voice tapering off as he went on. The cheetah's lips puckered into the shape of that one would use to whistle. "You didn't know that?"

Rearing back, the fox nearly fell over when the elevator halted abruptly, having reached the third floor. His eyes searched the other predator for any sign that it was a joke, and to his horror, he found none. "My face is on the front page of a newspaper?" he asked with wide eyes.

The cheetah cringed, taking the third box at Nick's hind paws and placing it atop the rest. "Ooh, yeah," he drawled out, giving the fox what you could only assume was an attempt at a smile, scratching the back of his neck before hoisting the boxes into the air. "You should take a look when you get the chance. This is my floor. You have a good day, Nick."

Nick stood dumbfounded, staring at the cheetah with unseeing eyes. "Huh?" he asked distantly. "Yeah, sure." He nodded his head slowly, bringing up a paw to smooth down his ears. "You too, Spots."

The elevator door closed to the sympathetic look of the other predator, and Nick was alone with the knowledge that his face could very well be plastered across the entire city. His jaw worked on its own, opening and closing in the air as if he was chewing some invisible item. After a moment he found that he was staring at his own reflection in the bronze elevator doors, this time his haunted face showing no evidence of the coffee he packed away. The gaunt image that assaulted his eyes forced the fox back into awareness, who effortlessly slipped back into his carefree posture.

He gave his reflection an approving look, his lidded eyes running over the features of his face for a moment before the expression drooped again. His brow furrowed and his eyes downcast, he chewed on his cheek in thought. _Usually that works_ , he thought to himself pensively. Nick tried again, this time forcing the mask back up with a little more effort than normal, and this time it stuck. The elevator doors opened to a carefree fox, strolling lazily out of the car and around the corner to the Chief's office. He weaved his paws together behind his back as he enjoyed the green carpet under his hind paws.

The elevator had opened up into a hallway that led out into a large open area, just before a colored plexiglass railing. Nick found himself back in the main hall and stole a glance back down into the enormous room, seeing the ewe still diligently typing away at the reception kiosk. The majority of the fourth floor seemed to be individual offices, each separated from the balcony with glass privacy doors, names Nick did not recognize written out in gold lettering across them all. He was beginning to wonder if he had gone the wrong way when he was nearing the end, only to find the very last door had the caption 'Chief Bogo' written out in plain lettering.

Nick paused just outside the door and chewed on the inside of his cheek beneath his smile. There was not many things on this planet that scared the fox, the Chief not being excluded from that, but there was something to be said about the unpreparedness the vulpine felt. He was just getting over the fact that he had ventured into the ZPD headquarters with absolutely no plan of escape, and now here he was, standing dumbly outside the office of the Police Chief himself. "Come in," a gruff voice called from within, having obviously been able to see his silhouette through the partially transparent door.

The fox hesitated, taking one final glance down the balcony towards the elevator. He technically still had the ability to run. He would have to jump the balconies one by one before sprinting through the door, then find some hole in the line of riot gear covered police, only to lose them in a crowd of protestors where he would more than likely be the only fox, and also stick out like a sore thumb with his gaudy shirt. Still, it was technically possible. He even considered it for a moment, sticking his paws in his pockets. His train of thought was halted, however, when his paw brushed across the orange plastic within.

Slowly, Nick brought the pen out and looked at it, its ridged design and carrot top clicker never losing its ridiculousness no matter how many times he studied it, and he had studied it. Almost every day after the press conference he stared at the one he got from Judy, and the details were burned into his mind with a feeling permanence. Nick let out a long sigh as he turned it over in his paw, watching the grey light reflect off the smooth plastic. He stuck it back into his pocket swiftly, pushing opened the door with his usual lidded gaze stretching to its limits of smugness.

The Police Chief was staring at him with an unreadable expression. "Mr. Wilde," he said stiffly, gesturing with his hoof towards the orange plastic chair in front of his desk. "Have a seat."

The office was actually quite large for the small fox, but by all accounts wasn't much more than a extended cubicle for the massive cape buffalo. In the middle of the room sat an ornate mahogany desk, separating the Chief from the mammals that came into his office. Every file cabinet, shelf, a number of chairs backed up against the wall, a folding plastic table, and every inch of his desk was cluttered in file folders and case boxes. It was the office of someone swamped in work, that was obvious enough. A detailed map of the city, pictures, sticky notes, and yarn filling it to the point of it being difficult to discern the actual geography, hung crookedly off the wall to the fox's left.

The office bordered the outside of the building, large stone pillars spaced out on the back wall, with windows on either side of the room. Between the two stone pillars in the middle, right above the Chief's horned head, was a ZPD badge bigger than him, hanging off a section of drywall that connected the stone. The same pervasive ego of medals and pictures with important mammals occupied space on the walls of his Chief's office too, though the ornaments seemed to collect more dust than respect. The only thing that caught Nick's eye was an old framed picture of a much younger cape buffalo standing side by side with the former mayor, discreetly leaned up against a shelf in the corner.

Nick could tell his obvious study of the Chief's office brought no small amount of irritation in the larger mammal, though he only showed his displeasure through flaring his nostrils, as his consistent scowl did little to inform on his mood. The todd climbed slowly up into the seat, never taking his lazy smile off him as he hoisted himself into the orange plastic. They sat in silence for what seemed like a long moment, Nick giving no indication of being intimidated despite the buffalo's spiteful glare over his reading glasses. The only sound present in the space was their respective breathing, the gentle patter and wind of the storm, and the distant chants emanating from the steps of the station.

Nick was the first to speak, having no interest in prolonging his stay any more than he had to. "You wanted to talk to me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

The Chief leaned back into his reinforced office chair, the metal complaining under his one ton of solid muscle and bone, crossing his arms. "Have you seen the newspaper this morning?" he asked plainly.

Running his tongue over the tips of his teeth, the fox simply kept smiling at the buffalo. "I heard about it," he replied, weaving his paws together on his lap.

Bogo snorted loudly, putting his weight forward into his arms as he leaned over his desk, picking up a newspaper that Nick couldn't see beforehand and tossed it at him. "Have a look," he said, the paper spinning in the air until it landed heavily on the smaller mammal's lap.

Nick gave the buffalo a look before his eyes trailed downward, partially unwilling to see what he feared to be the truth. His eyes fell onto the newspaper squarely, it having landed perfectly for the fox to read. Right there, on the front page, in crisp color and detail, was a picture of him and Judy, walking down the steps of the Natural History Museum. Nick's jaw slackened as he stared at the imagine of himself cradling the bunny in his arms, Judy staring up at the underside of his muzzle with a huge, toothy smile, her padless paw resting flat against his chest in a way he swore he would remember happening, yet held no such recollection.

The fox's emerald eyes swept up to the headline, and again he felt his mind reach a state of stunned unthinking. "'An Unlikely Pair: the story of Judy Hopps and her _foxy_ friend unearthing the conspiracy'?" Nick asked, exasperated by what he was reading so much, he lifted it up and held it as far away from himself as his arms could reach. His gaze shot over to the buffalo that passively watched his reaction. "What the hell is this?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, irritating the fox to no end. "They obviously had someone sitting outside the museum if they were able to catch everything so quick," he said with little passion in his voice, studying the fox across from him. "Most of the story is embellished quite a lot in the bits that weren't in the official reports, and it reads more like a tabloid than a newspaper for most of it."

Nick's eyes shot back to the article, and his gaze flashed over the text in quickly, skimming the story. He sucked in a breath when his eyes fell over a phrase that stole his attention, forcing the predator to start at the beginning of the paragraph to not miss anything. "She returned to the city after two months," he read aloud, squinting at the page. "Coming back to finish the case she opened in June with the string of missing mammals that frightened the city, which we later found out were the victims of not only poisoning by the hooves of our former mayor, Dawn Bellwether, but also the victims of kidnapping by the paws of her predecessor, Leodore Lionheart."

"Grieving over her mistakes, Officer Judy Hopps sought out the aid of her good friend, who also happened to be a fox, in rooting out the culprit behind the poisoning of predators with deadly Night howler extract," Nick said, continuing on with the excerpt from the paper, his brow furrowing more and more as he read. "In a daring and awe-inspiring show of bravery, the two natural enemies displayed cooperation and trust in each other that would make even the most fervent anti-speciest activists green with envy…" He gaped at the page, finding it almost impossible to believe what he was reading. "You have got to be kidding me."

Bogo simply nodded slowly at the fox. "Deathly serious," he deadpanned.

His piercing emerald eyes narrowed dangerously as another piece of text that caught his attention, his face involuntarily being brought up to mere inches away from the paper. "The vulnerable lapid looked at ease, even comfortable, in the arms of her natural predator; going so far as to smile warmly up at the underside of his muzz-" Nick cut himself off, pulling the paper away from his face as he shot his gaze away, throwing it heavily back onto the top of the Chief's desk. The fox found himself staring at the map that hung off the wall, a haze of emotions broiling inside his mind.

"We've been getting a lot of calls," the Chief informed him, gingerly picking the paper up himself to reread it. "They apparently would rather like an interview with you and Hopps."

Nick slumped into the chair, his mask having been completely demolished. What remained of any respect that mammals had for him was surely vaporized by those words, and he now felt the implications of his face having been distributed everywhere in the city. He had been out breaking the law the whole morning with that very face, and it's possible the only thing that kept mammals from recognizing him was the drab green suit that he wore, most mammals probably only having payed attention the Hawaiian shirt on the newspaper's cover. The fox dropped his muzzle into his paws, shaking it slowly. "It's just not my week," he grumbled.

The Police Chief snorted loudly, his scowl growing with pursed lips. "A sentiment that I feel as well, fox," he replied flatly, letting his eyes fall back onto his desk as he pushed his reading glasses up his stocky snout.

The todd fell backwards into his seat, his head pointed up at the plain ceiling with eyes searching the featureless space above. "At least they didn't get my name," Nick commented.

"That is actually why I've called you up here," Bogo replied, taking a large file off the top of one of the many stacks, licking his hoof before flipping it open. Nick's eyes fell down onto the cape buffalo across from him, apprehension filling his mind. "Nicholas Piberius Wilde, born March nineteen eighty-four to John and Valerie Wilde, both deceased, in a city called Oak Crossing practically on the other side of the continent," he read aloud from the file in front of him, having brought a hoof up to his face to hold the dainty glasses securely in place. He sat the file back onto the desk without closing it and looked up at the fox with an unreadable expression.

"You got your driver's license on your sixteenth birthday, your GED and a ZABC license on your eighteenth birthday, and the only things that are on file with any regularity are your blank tax returns and a Zootopia Public Library card that was stupidly active up until a couple years ago." The Chief stared at the fox, searching for any reaction to his word. Nick offered him no such satisfaction, keeping calm and cool on the surface despite his trepidations. "No residence, no employment, no phone number, no income to speak of, no surviving family in the city, and no enrollment after the age of thirteen."

Nick smiled at the cape buffalo lazily, his broad smirk masking his thoughts with outward amusement. "Sums it up pretty well, Chief," he chirped, cocking an eyebrow at him and continuing in a playful tone. "Are you writing a book about me?"

Bogo was unamused by the fox's attempt at levity, meeting his gaze with a mixture of contempt and sternness. "You could say I am covering my bases," he replied, folding his hooves over the open file in front of him. "Are you homeless, Wilde?"

The air in the office grew disquieting, and Nick was beginning to think that the cape buffalo did not intend to humor him. He had suspected an interrogation, but the idea that they had taken the time to compile a rather large file on him was filling him with a sense of dread. There was a moment where he was wondering if they had been watching him, and if that was the case, had they seen him with Big's cronies? Visions of a fox in cuffs played through his mind as he smiled at the buffalo. "That would depend on your point of view," he said easily. "I would say the city is my home."

The Chief glared at him for a moment before snorting and looking back down to the open file briefly. "Custody over you was given to your grandfather, a mammal any cop worth his salt knows by heart, Arthur B. Wilde, after your mother's passing at the age of ten," he said, watching the vulpine's face for any reaction. "I have it on good authority that he was not the mammal to raise you."

Nick cocked a brow. "Do you?" he asked, interested. There was not many mammals that even knew about his parent's death, let alone knew enough to say with confidence that he raised himself on the streets.

"Yes, I _do_ ," he replied firmly, his eyes dropping back down to the file as he lifted it back into the air to read off of it. "The problem: no records whatsoever about admission into the system by Child Protective Services." Bogo flipped one of the pages clipped to the folder over the top, giving Nick a brief glimpse of a form filled with writing and a picture of a red fox paper-clipped to it. "No records at all, actually, between your mother's death and you applying for a driver's license besides a brief admission into Zootopia Public High." He pulled a paper out of the folder and allowed it to drop back onto his desk.

The cape buffalo leaned over the desk, sitting the page down on the surface and spinning it with his hooves to be legible to the fox. "I've had a look at the applications submitted to the school, and you might be interested to know that _that_ ," he said, striking the page with one of his hardened fingers and pointing to a signature written out in near-perfect calligraphy. "Is _not_ your grandfather's signature. One of my guys from our Financial Crimes Unit seems convinced that it's a forgery, and a pretty good one at that. The address listed, 571 Baobab Boulevard apartment number 9062, the very same one on your driver's license, is a P.O. box a couple miles down the road."

Nick's eyes shot up from the page in front of him to meet the buffalo's hard glare. He honestly did not expect to see that page again. It was a regular trip down memory lane, which, to Nick, was never a good thing. Masking his bewilderment expertly, the fox gave the huge mammal in front of him an amused smirk. "I'm flattered, Chief," he said playfully. "Nobody has really taken the time to get to know me like that."

"Shut your mouth, _fox_ ," he seethed through a clenched jaw, pointing at him with the same hoof. "I'm not done." Bogo started pulling pages out of the file one by one, throwing them down on the desk in front of Nick. Elementary school report cards, copies of class pictures taken on a variety of years, DMV documents that showed a red fox jumping in age with every renewal, and copies of his tax returns coming one after another as the buffalo slapped them down. "I've cast a wide net with our C.I. program, and it seems like half the mammals in the city know your name but none of them want to talk about you."

"You walked into a testing building on your eighteenth birthday, and passed it without getting a single question wrong," he said, throwing down a copy of his GED test, the only markings being a simple 'one-hundred' written at the top. "That also applies for your driver's license and your ZABC license, both perfect scores across the board." Bogo threw both tests down on top of the last, giving the fox barely enough time to confirm their authenticity. Nick's paw came up without thinking, nervously running his claws through the cream colored fur of his neck as his smile shrunk with each document's reveal.

Bogo held up a huge bundle of papers that were clipped together in the air, giving Nick a wide-eyed look to accentuate the next reveal before throwing it down onto the building pile with a heavy thump. Looking at it, Nick saw it was a spreadsheet that listed the names of books, the heading being stamped with the official logo of the Zootopia Public Library. "The librarians over at the ZPL talked my officer's bloody ear off about you, saying you've practically read them out of house and home," he said throwing another legal looking paper down. " _And_ the only paper not about school or submitted directly to the government we've been able to find about you was an internship at a _law office_ over off River Side."

Nick's eyes slid over the document headed by an official 'Steenbock & Meyerkat' logo, a small law firm that the fox knew quite well. His eyes snapped upwards to meet the Chief's gaze. "I imagine you're going somewhere with this?" he asked guardedly.

He folded his hooves back over the folder and glared at the fox. "Where are you getting your money?"

Nick scoffed at the buffalo. "Is that an accusation?" he asked pointedly. They stared at each other for a moment before the fox gestured at the file with his paw. "You already read on my tax forms that I don't make any income, and I payed for everything in your little speech with money I got panhandling."

The Chief made a noise not unlike a growl, his nostrils flaring intensely as his scowl deepened. "Don't play with me, _fox_ ," he seethed. "Are you a drug dealer?"

Taken aback by the buffalo's words, Nick's brow furrowed. "Absolutely not," he replied firmly, finding the accusation to be insulting to say the least.

Bogo's face did not change. "Are you a thief?"

"No."

"Are you a criminal?" he asked, tilting his head to give the fox a sideways glare.

Nick did not answer, instead simply staring at the massive mammal blankly. Bogo pushed off the desk and leaned back into his chair, the metal joints complaining under his weight. He sat still for a time, the moments of his quiet observation dragging longer and longer. His searching gaze never left the fox's piercing emerald eyes, the scowl that occupied his face having been replaced by an unreadable expression as he sat back in his seat. He was thinking about what he should do with the fox, this Nick knew for certain, and he was rapidly feeling more and more like he may never leave this building a free mammal. _Well_ , he thought cynically. _That was short lived_.

"Tell me why I shouldn't burn you right now," he said, splitting the uneasy silence. The Chief glanced to the door behind the fox and waved his hoof out towards it, looking back at Nick. "What's stopping me from calling someone in here to detain you?"

"I…" Nick's voice trailed off, his lidded gaze distorted as his brow furrowed and he chewed on the inside of his cheek. "I can't answer that."

Bogo leaned back into his arms on the desk, closing the gap between him and the fox considerably. "Did Hopps know?" he asked quietly.

Nick scoffed. "Know what?" he asked, irritation boiling over as he stared at the buffalo exasperatedly. "That I was a shady fox that couldn't be trusted? Yeah, she assumed as much the second she saw me. So did you."

The Chief's searching glare did not falter. "Why did she seek your help when she came back to the city?"

Nick matched his glare with his own, leaning forward with the ridge of his snout creasing up in agitation as he slightly bared his fangs. "Because I _believed_ in her," he replied with poison laced in his words.

Bogo fell back into his chair. His gaze did not soften, though he took in a long breath, sighing heavily after he had filled his lungs with air. Tearing his eyes from the fox, he glanced around his desk, searching for something. "The feeling seems mutual," he grumbled, sliding a file out from the middle of one of the stacks. The buffalo opened the folder and studied its contents, throwing it on top of the accumulated evidence of Nick's life when he was satisfied. "Sign this."

Trading his eyes between the buffalo and the open file, Nick carefully retrieved it from the desk to look it over. On the top of the sheet, in bold lettering, was the word 'confidential' spread across the entire heading. The page was filled with initial and full name blanks, as well as a number of lines at the bottom for signatures. "Informant stuff?" he asked, looking up to see the Chief nod his head slowly.

Sighing, and savoring his last taste of the freedom that was incredibly short lived, Nick retrieved a carrot pen from his pocket and clicked the green leaves. Seeing the eyebrows on the buffalo raise almost all the way to his horns, Nick smiled at him and waved the pen through the air. "I bought a new one," he said casually. He initialed his name down the sheet slowly, having started with writing his full name for the oath at the top. It was mostly standard assurances: 'you're not a cop', 'we're not responsible for you getting hurt', that sort of thing. Nick noticed Judy's signature at the bottom, next to the 'submitting officer' space, and Bogo's signature was below that next to the 'witnessing officer's' space. Neither one had been dated.

Nick signed and dated the paper with a rapid flourish of his paw, and tossed the folder back at the Police Chief who caught it effortlessly. "I just have one more question," he said plainly, replacing the folder back into the stack. Bogo gave the fox one final hard glare. "Is anyone ever going to come around asking questions about you?"

"No," Nick replied without hesitation.

Bogo snorted. He leaned back into his chair and retrieved an envelope, handing it over the desk to the fox. "Here," he said, waving it in the air for Nick to take.

"What is this?" he asked, snatching the envelope out of the buffalo's hoof and looking at the front, which was blank.

"It's a check," he replied, making the fox cock an eyebrow at him. "Services rendered. You'll find that you are being compensated appropriately for the Missing Mammal's case as well as the Night howler investigation." Bogo pointed at the check in the fox's paws. " _That_ is something I expect to see on your tax returns, and you should know that I _will_ be watching them." He tore his eyes from the fox and pushed his glasses up on his snout, returning to his work in front of him. "If you're cornered by media, tell them it's an ongoing investigation. Don't screw it up more than you already have."

Nick felt his snout twitch in irritation at the buffalo's words, but held his tongue. The office fell into silence, and the fox glanced around, wondering if he should leave even though he hadn't done what he came here to do, that being giving his statement. "So, what-"

"Get out of my office," Bogo said flatly, cutting the fox off. "Officer Snarlov is in charge of getting statements for the case. His desk is on the third floor. I'll call him and let him know you're coming."

Nick gazed at the mammal as he casually continued working for a moment before shooting a quick breath out of his snout, jumping down off the large plastic chair and walking towards the door. _Just as polite as I remember_ , he thought bitterly, fixing his tie and sticking the envelope in his pocket as he made his way across the room. _At least I'm not in pawcuffs_. Just before he left the office, he paused. The fox turned to glance back at the buffalo. "Chief Bogo?" he asked, watching the cape buffalo look up from his desk with a blank expression. "Who would I talk to about a gang of foxes going around Savannah Central terrorizing mammals?"

Bogo cocked an eyebrow at the fox. "Wolfard is in charge of a case like that," he said, gesturing with his snout back towards the way Nick came. "He's also on the third floor."

Giving the Police Chief a lidded smile, Nick turned and continued walking out the door. "Thanks," he replied over his shoulder

"Wilde," Bogo called out, causing Nick to stop and turn back towards the buffalo. He was staring at the fox with searching eyes, pursing his lips in thought. "Hopps told me she wanted you to be her partner."

Nick nodded slowly. "She did."

"She is a good cop," he said plainly. Bogo studied him with careful eyes, his hard glare softening as he seemed to consider something. "And maybe her opinion isn't so wrong in this case." Turning his attention back to his desk, he gathered up all of the papers that were in the fox's file, stacking them neatly back into the folder. "The reputation of this department hangs by a thread because of what has happened over the past few months, and I am going to be keeping a _very_ close eye on one such piece of said thread." He opened one of his drawers and pulled out a red rubber-band, stretching it over the file folder to close it and held it up in the air at the fox.

Bogo tossed the file loudly into the trashcan, causing several crumpled up pieces of paper to shoot up into the air before toppling back towards the ground. He gave Nick a stern look, pointing at him with his hoof. "I want you off the streets; no more of whatever it is you are doing, and I am _very_ serious about that." The Chief straightened up in his chair, and gazed at the fox. "If you so decide, you should think about what she asked you. Despite your more than likely sordid past, you have proven invaluable in the pursuit of justice for this city." Narrowing his eyes one last time, he returned to the work that lay before him. "Maybe it's high time you start thinking about what's important, yeah?" he said quietly.

Nick stared at him for a long moment. Finally, without another word, he turned and left the office, strolling back out into the main hall of the precinct. He didn't move for a time, his silhouette surely still within the perception of the buffalo that sat in his office behind him, studying his hind paws pensively. Slowly, he inched his way to the edge of the plexiglass railing, looking down into the massive space at the star floor mural spreading out from the reception kiosk. 'Zootopia' and 'Police Headquarters' stared up at him from the muted design, and the fox could feel again the dull ache that had been staved off with the coffee.

He made a point of brushing it off as he sauntered back towards the elevator, forcing his eyes to focus on the path ahead instead of the sleek framed posters extolling trust, integrity, and bravery that littered the walls behind grass planters that stretched the length of the balcony. He kept his eyes on the floor panel when he entered the elevator, ignoring the monochrome shape of a police badge that was etched into the back wall of the car. Nick's mind was terribly uncomfortable, in every way he could imagine. Pulled in forty different directions as once, the only respite from his nonconsecutive storm of thoughts being the ding of the elevator when he reached the third floor.

The doors opened to a wave of noise, one that he had not perceived when he had stopped at the floor before. It was a cacophony of telephones, bustling mammals, and the murmur of voices. Walking out of the car, Nick found that it didn't open up into the main hall, but rather an enormous, flat room that more closely resembled what he thought a police precinct to look like than anything else he had seen beforehand. The room practically epitomized bureaucracy, with the flat space comprising of nearly fifty desks of varying sizes paired together in symmetrical order.

Mammals of all sizes dressed in blue either sat in their desk of a comparable size or bustled about the space, talking on phones or to each other. It reminded the fox of all of the rooms of the same type he had seen in movies and read about in books, glancing over the top of cluttered desks and stacks of paper. Every wall except the one on the far side from the elevator, which bordered the outside thus was comprised of the same chiseled towering pillars of stone, was coated in every space that wasn't occupied by a window, door, cabinet, or shelf in posters and cork boards filled to the point of overflowing.

Nick strolled slowly down the aisles, looking at name plaques and over the officer's faces to spot any indication he had found this mystic 'Snarlov' character, and apparently found himself to have terrible luck. He was reading another name when a whistle caught his ear, and he turned to see a familiar grey wolf leaning back into a desk looking at him. Closing the gap between them, Nick saw he was eating salted crickets out of a bag likely bought from a vending machine. The wolf gave him a toothy grin as he came closer, his blue eyes studying the fox. He kicked up a hind paw, relaxing into the desk further.

"Well if it isn't Hopps' _foxy_ friend!" he called out, his smile growing wider as he fished out another pawful of bugs.

Nick groaned as he came to a stop in front of the wolf, averting his gaze with his ears pulling back against his head. "The first of many," he grumbled under his breath.

"You just wake up or something?" Wolfard asked with a cocked eyebrow. "I'd have crawled into an early grave by now if that kind of stuff was written about me. I'd never hear the end of it."

"The day is still young, unfortunately," he replied. Nick looked back up at the grey wolf. "You know if a guy called Snarlov is around?"

Wolfard jerked his head behind him. "This is his desk," he replied. "He stepped out. I answered the phone when the Chief called."

Nick glanced at the desk and saw the name 'Grigory Snarlov' embossed in a bronze plaque sitting neatly on the edge. The fox blinked at the piece of metal before his brow furrowed. "He is apparently making a habit of evading me, it seems," he said, glancing back up at the wolf. "When is he going to be back?"

Wolfard shrugged lazily as he chewed a massive pawful of crickets he had flung into his maw. "Sometime," he replied unhelpfully, studying the fox. The wolf rolled up the bag and sat it down on the desk behind him, crossing his arms at the smaller predator. "The Chief said you had something for me."

The fox matched his studious gaze, his lidded eyes sizing up the wolf. "I might," he said plainly, fishing his paw into his pocket. "Have you ever heard of a mammal by the name of Joseph Corkton?" The only reply he got was the wolf cocking an eyebrow. "He's an unwashed boar that set up shop here in Savannah Central. The little storefront he's got going is a fairly big dispensary of Fox Away merchandise." Nick held up the carrot pen into the air, having made sure to know which one is which by the pocket they were stored.

Nick clicked the button on the side and the air between them was filled with the familiar scratching sound of the audio rewinding. The packaging they came with never did explain why digital recordings needed to be rewound like that. Once he felt he rewound far enough, he lifted his thumb off the button, and the electrical voice of a gruff male played out between them.

" _So, I got to thinkin'. How do you convince mammals that they need to buy some Fox Away merchandise? The answer is simple: they need to be scared into it,"_ the voice said, causing Wolfard's face to slacken as he looked between the fox and the carrot pen. _"A couple of my friends, all foxes like yourself, have been going around terrorising some of the poor, defenseless mammals around these parts."_ The wolf's jaw dropped out from his muzzle as he fixed his vision on the small carrot in the fox's paw. _"It's worked better than any billboard, let me tell you."_

The voice went on callously, like his words didn't imply the fear and pain that they obviously did. _"You get a cut of sales for every night you're out. If muggin' is your game, then you can keep the plunder. All's I'm interested in is you scaring the daylights out of some prissy prey, and give them the idea to see ol' Joe for all their Fox Away needs."_

" _How big's the crew?"_ Nick's distorted voice rang out from the recorder.

"' _Bout five foxes strong,"_ the pig replied, and Wolfard snapped his jaw shut and his eyebrows rose far up onto his head. _"You can head out with them, or you can do it solo, I don't care."_

" _Well, how big is the cut?"_

" _Taken out of total sales of Fox Away stuff the next day. If you work hard, you will see the reward."_

" _You want me to terrorize mammals how? You say mugging, but is that all?"_

" _They've done all sort. I really just tell them to scare the shit out of mammals and they oblige. B &E, muggin', beatin', grand theft, car strippin', it don't matter to me, they do it all. You get to have a little fun that way."_

" _Sounds like a pretty good deal you've got going."_

" _It can be. It can be,"_ the recorder finished, and Nick clicked the button again, ending the playback. He handed the pen up towards the stunned wolf unable to help the smug look that split his face.

The wolf reached down and gingerly took the carrot from the fox, looking at it in disbelief. His eyes fell down onto Nick with apparent incredulity. "Where did you get this?" he asked, pointing a clawed finger from his free paw at it.

Nick shrugged. "It's fresh off the block, Howls, taken just a couple hours ago." He watched the wolf's face cycle through a number of emotions with amusement, his smile growing. "Now, I ain't cheap, buddy," he said, pointing at the pen. "That's gonna cost you."

"Cost me?" he asked incredulously, his brow furrowing and fangs poking out from his parted muzzle. "What do you want?"

Nick pointed behind the wolf. "Those crickets will do nicely," he said, smiling broadly up at the larger predator. Wolfard looked confused, glancing behind himself to the rolled up bag of salted crickets and back to the fox. "I haven't eaten all day," Nick informed him happily.


	17. My best friend

_7:31 pm, September 16th_

* * *

It was said - by who, Nick did not know; probably by someone with too much free time in their paws - that some of the greatest moments in life can't be procured by careful planning, but come about, in their simplest forms, by chance. Creating plans to be followed religiously was a ritual that had slowly become an obsession, and as the years dragged on, the careful planning left little room for the likes of chance. The days and moments of breathing had become themselves pieces of some grand strategy, the steps to follow growing endlessly into the future, keeping its completion just out of reach.

In the wake of the present's ceaseless journey into the future, what was often left behind was the thoughts and dreams that made the passage possible. For some that meant the abandonment of what little motivation might have driven them, and when the momentum of the past was finally slowed by the resistance of the future, many mammals found they had no idea how it was possible for them to have ended up where they were. Nick believed this is what would have happened to him, though slowly, if his careful planning was not ruined so effortlessly by the random chance of meeting a bunny in an ice cream parlor.

There was something to be said about the abruptness of the halt in movement, the unexpected divergence from the path he had followed so closely for so many years. It had left him stunned, confused, and every moment that followed the deviation left him all the more uncertain: of his path, of his choices, and of his future. The stagnation had given him ample time to view the wake he had left behind, but no matter how much he stared at the exhausted reasoning and forgotten dreams, the only thing he saw was the beliefs of a mammal he did not recognize, and the actions of a fox he was growing to hate.

These are the thoughts that ran through the red fox's mind as he held in his paws the contents of a dark red rucksack, one that had for awhile been carefully hidden just below the surface, tangled in the roots of a large oak tree that grew around the base of a decrepit shipping crane. Staring down with steely eyes at the dark metal cradled in his paws, Nick felt a string of emotions following each other in the depths of his stomach, finally settling on disgust. He was caked in mud and exhausted, having dug with his bare paws into the base of the tree, searching for the bag hidden below.

It was raining with a renewed intensity, one the storm had seldom displayed since the very first night, where the vulpine had witnessed a dry riverbed fill with water at a rate that seemed absurd. Despite that, he sat on his knees, unprotected from the battering water as he stared at his paws, his night vision only being able to cut through the dark enough to observe the familiar shape, while the details of the weapon remained obscured. He stood slowly, feeling himself sink into the mud with his new pawholds, and felt himself drift towards the water's edge, never tearing his vision for the weapon in his paws.

Nick only stopped when he could feel the slick concrete below his hind paws, his toes dangerously hanging over the precipice where waves of saltwater kiss their tips. The wind pushed against his front so much he held his weight out over the lip, his ears and tail flapping in the torrential force with his vision framed completely by impenetrable saltwater. The fox found himself looking up into the pitch-black sky, watching the storm clouds flash with cracks of light and billows that reached down towards the ground far enough to be illuminated by the city's incandescence.

Anger filled him, and he felt the skin that was battered by chilling rain and wind heat up like a furnace as it stretched over his body. Nick growled and bared his fangs openly, snapping his eyes down at the Beretta M9 that sat in his grasp. He released the magazine, catching it in the air only to throw it as far as his he could into the angry waves of the ocean, disappearing from sight even before it hit the water. He pulled the slide back next, a cartridge spinning away from the gun only for the fox to bat it into the ocean with his paw. Nick looked down into the chamber, and tilted the gun to catch the light of a distant shipyard lamp, looking for any signs of more ammunition.

The gun having been properly emptied, he simultaneously pushed in a button and pulled down on a lever with practiced ease, the slide clicking out of its place to be deftly pulled free of the handle, only to follow the magazine into the saltwater. With one more glance down at the stripped firearm, the fox watched the rain splatter across the metal for a moment. A slow breath escaped his snout, and Nick held out his arm over the water, allowing the weight of the metal to force his wrist down. What remained of the M9 slipped out of his paw and tumbled down into the dark water, disappearing for good below the waves.

Nick gave the discarded weapon no ceremony, and quickly turned away from the sea to return to his excavated bag. Unlike the fox's blue counterparts that were hidden in a similar fashion, the red rucksacks were often stored away without even the slightest trace or possibility that they would be stumbled upon; there wasn't even a fox repellent reminder, as they were all committed to memory. This was for a very good reason, as every red bag had within it a terrible secret: an arsenal unlike any other, and probably only comparable in scale with Big's entire mob. The fox had enough firepower hidden throughout the city to arm a small nation.

That wasn't strictly true, as Nick believed it was hyperbole more than anything, but that didn't change the fact that he had enough to put him away for several lifetimes. Guns were not something mammals had in the city, as widespread gun control was enacted shortly after the climate walls came up to combat the gang warfare that devastated the metropolis. The collection had been procured steadily in his twenty years of living on the streets, believing that it was only rational to prepare for every outcome. It had technically already saved his hide before, though it was a stroke of luck Kevin didn't call his bluff of an unloaded pistol, the very same he just thrown in the ocean.

 _The fact remains_ , he mused to himself, zipping up the red bag that sat at the base of the oak tree. _That I have almost twenty-five guns buried around the city_. This fed into his thoughts about not understanding how he had even gotten to this point. He had just asked that morning at what point it became overkill with the ZPD, yet he himself had guns waiting to be used in every corner of Zootopia. Nick had to wonder exactly how long had he been a hypocrite of the highest caliber. His growing personal disdain was pushed aside as he hoisted the bag up over his shoulder, still holding onto the handle with his paw.

Nick added to his list of things he needed to do, and after a moment bumped it up on the list to where he would deal with it first thing in the morning. The faster every red bag in the city shared the same fate as the Beretta, he would be at ease. After that, all he had to do was collect all of the blue bags, burn all of his fake identities, put his real name on everything currently held by a ghost, including the lot, and then figure out what exactly he was going to do with the rest of his life. Shaking his head slowly, he started walking back inland. _Sounds like a piece of cake_ , he thought sarcastically. _I honestly can't wait to get up in the morning_.

Picking up a styrofoam cup sitting on a concrete slab, that had been overflowing with water, the fox tipped it over, careful that the change inside did not follow the liquid out onto the ground. Satisfied, though a little amused when the cup rapidly began filling again, Nick strolled out of the shipyard. The fox made his way down the street with a leisurely pace, allowing the storm to do its best in washing off the healthy layer of mud that covered him. It was not an aimless wander though, as he strolled with a purpose down the sidewalk. He was well aware, even without a way to tell time on his person, that he had a call to make.

The phone calls between him and Judy were quickly becoming the highlights of his days in the city, his usual activities leaving nothing but a bad taste in his mouth. Maybe now that he was free to practically do whatever he wanted, he could do as Kevin suggested and try to find a hobby. A thought that was immensely amusing to the fox, and brought a wide grin to match his lidded gaze. He sincerely doubted there was anything in the city that could capture his attention any better than the rabbit, and held no desire to look. Which is why he was powerless to stop his tail from wagging when he saw a set of payphones down the way.

They were not unlike the other set: rusted, worn, and beaten. The biggest difference was the fact that they sat comfortably under a sturdy brick outcropping on the corner of a decent looking building. Nick had traveled to the easternmost tip of the southwest side, which meant he was a fairly good distance from the bridge and his usual payphone, as well as the decrepit neighborhoods and projects that littered the quasi-district. Taking their place was mostly the plain structures that occupied the majority of the city, simple brick and concrete, clean enough to not give the impression that you were in a bad neighborhood, but old enough to look well-used.

 _One plus of this side_ , Nick thought, nearing the payphones. _Is all the street lamps work_. A point that couldn't be ignored as the sidewalks had been brightly illuminated through the overcast sky and heavy rain. It was a far cry from the heart of the southwest side, that was for sure, but that did not change the overall mood of the streets. The solemn atmosphere had a tendency to stretch even beyond the borders of the quasi-district, instilling thoughts of caution in mammals for miles in every direction. He had to wonder if he would stay here despite his changes, not really feeling like he would be comfortable anywhere else.

Nick pushed down his contemplation about the future again as he reached the payphones, stepping out of the rain and into a brightly lit divot in the building. The low humming of an incandescent bulb rose above the sound of the rain hitting the concrete, and Nick threw his red bag down underneath the payphone of his size, sitting the styrofoam cup gently down onto the top before shaking his coat of water as best he could. The fox glanced behind himself, studying the space and feeling grateful that the rotting pieces of wood supporting his protection from the rain had been replaced by an enormous brick pillar, running the height of the building's corner.

Scoffing, the fox turned back towards the payphone fixture. He retrieved the pawset and stuck it between his cheek and shoulder, working the volume knob as he stuck two fingers into the cup on the payphone. His paw had displaced a good amount of water, which spilled over the top of the cup and onto the blue metal of the fixture, as he fished out two metal coins. Sliding them into the face of the payphone one after another, he hit the pound sign with his thumb before rapidly punching in the Finnick's number. Nick believed he would probably talk all night with Judy again, so he wanted to call the fennec fox first.

The ringing noise filled his sensitive ear, and Nick twisted the volume knob even lower. It didn't take long for the noise to be cut short by a beep that signified the call had been answer. "Who is it?" a deep voice barked out.

"How's it going, Fin?" Nick asked casually. "Now, you won't believe this, but I am standing right here on the edge of the River Styx, and I forgot the ferry toll." He turned from the fixture to gaze into the rainstorm, a smile splitting his lidded features. "Could you head over to Big's place and stuff some cash into my pocket? I should still be down in the pool."

Finnick clicked his tongue off his sharp teeth. "If only yo' dumb ass was down there," he replied in an annoyed tone. "Then you wouldn't be callin' me with such lame-ass jokes."

"I'll have you know that references to Greek Mythology gets the vixens every single time."

Scoffing, Finnick could be heard rummaging around something on his end of the line. " _Right_ ," he drawled sarcastically. "Vixens." Nick could practically hear his eyes rolling. "I haven't seen your lanky hide with no vixen in years, so I'm gonna go out on a limb and say it probably don't work like you say it does." The sound of a wrapper being pulled off of a piece of candy filled the call, and Finnick loudly stuck it into his maw, rattling it against his teeth. "What do you want, Nick?"

Nick hummed. "Did you win anything?"

"Not a damn thing," he said with a low growl. "That's why I was pretty sure you walked outta there."

"You let the tables, a place, mind you, that you _consistently_ lose at, tell the fortune of whether or not I was a popsicle?" Nick asked, cocking a brow.

"Nah," Finnick replied as he dragged the sucker across the tips of his teeth to make a noise that was deliberately irritating to the red fox's ears. "Kevin called me while I was with this vixen I met at the Palm." He paused as if his attention was elsewhere, and when he continued his voice reflected the broad smile on his maw. "I may leave the chips at the table, but I always walk away with somethin'."

Snorting, Nick shook his head slowly. "I'll be sure to find out who it was so I can apologize for you," he quipped back.

Finnick scoffed loudly at him. "Ask her yo'self," he replied, his voice becoming distant as he pulled the phone away. "'Ey, Yo!" he shouted. "Tell this fool what I got to be sorry about."

Nick could hear the sound of a woman's laugh on the other end of the line, and his ears shifted backwards on his head. "Not a damn thing!" she called out happily.

"That's right, baby," Finnick replied nasally. "That's right." They shared a laugh that made Nick roll his eyes. He heard the fennec return the phone back to his muzzle. "Why you callin' me, Nick?"

"Are you busy tomorrow?"

Finnick clicked his tongue. "I was plannin' on sleepin' in," he replied. "If yo' about to ask a damn nocturnal predator to get up at six o'clock again."

Turning from the rain, Nick's eyes fell back onto the payphone. "You do realize that I'm nocturnal, too, right?"

A dark chuckle filled the air between them. "Yo' a lot of things," he managed to say between his spouts of laughter. "Includin' a goddamn _'foxy'_ friend to a little bunny, too."

Nick groaned loudly, and heard the woman Finnick was with chirp up. "That's the todd from the paper you were talking about?" she asked.

"Sho' is, shawty," he replied back, tapping one of his claws against the phone. "This fox here is a bonafide celebrity."

"Are you free tomorrow, or what?" Nick said, biting out the words and running one of his paws down the length of his long muzzle in exasperation.

Finnick snorted at him. "No need to get yo' rabbit chasin' tail all twisted up," he said casually, making the red fox answer him with a frustrated growl. "Yeah, I'm free. What are we gonna be doin'?"

Nick sighed and smoothed out his tie, composing himself. "Cleanup," he said. "I need to pick up some things I've got lying around the city. Are you in the van right now?"

"Hotel," the fennec replied plainly.

Scoffing, Nick's mind ran through the list of things he would need the next day. "It doesn't matter," he said after a time of thought. "I've got most of the stuff we'll need at the lot, but make sure you've got the rebar cutter, the mattock, and those goggles I left with you." The red fox ran his claws through the cream colored fur of his neck while thinking about anything he might be missing. "Oh, and we'll need that outfit that we used for the carnival hustle."

"What the hell kinda damn cleanup are we gonna be doin'?" he asked bewilderedly.

"Red bags."

The call was silent as Finnick let the words hang between them. Nick could hear him roll the hard candy between a couple incisors absently. Slowly, the fennec scratched around the base of his muzzle as he spoke. "All of them?" he asked steely.

"Every last one," Nick replied. "I'd like to do it in one day."

"'Aight," Finnick agreed after a long moment of thought, his previous playful tone absent. "I'll meet you at the lot at six."

Nick nodded his head. "See you then."

Bringing up his free paw, Nick pushed down on the lever that the pawset usually sat on, ending the call abruptly. He wasted no time in collecting another set of coins from the water filled cup, inserting them into the machine before punching in Judy's number. He was hoping that it wasn't past eight-thirty, and he was still in time to call her. There was always the risk that time had somehow eluded him, despite believing he had a fairly good grasp on the passage without the help of any peripherals. A familiar anticipation grew when the dull ringing played out of the earpiece, and he found himself probably more excited than he should be.

It was an excitement that waned after every unsuccessful ring, filling the fox with more and more nervous tension. He knew it was probably stupid to think that she was waiting with bated breath for his call, but for some reason the rational part of his brain didn't carry the authority it was used to. _She was just busy with something_ , he reasoned to himself, his paw coming up absently to scratch the back of his neck. _She'll be there_. She wasn't. The only thing to answer his call was her chirpy voice recorded onto the answering machine. He replaced the pawset slowly, the heavy plastic clunking back onto the mechanism loudly.

Nick chewed on the inside of his lip, his brow furrowing to the set of coins dropping out into a slot near the bottom of the fixture. His jovial mood had all but evaporated as he glared at the payphone. Was she doing something where she couldn't pick up the phone? Was she just not by it at the moment? Nick couldn't know, but the fact that he _didn't_ was what bothered him. Maybe she thought they had talked too much last night, and didn't feel like talking to him tonight? The fox knew the thought was as absurd as it sounded, but the fear persisted. Defiantly, he snatched the set of coins from the splot and redialed.

The humming ring filled his ears again as his foot tapped against the ground impatiently, his paw finding its way into his pocket to grasp the orange plastic within. Each ring ate into his ears with a feeling he was not comfortable with, and with each passing moment of Judy _still_ not picking up, the fox ran his tongue over his teeth faster. _Maybe it's the number?_ Nick wondered anxiously. _Maybe she saved the number of the other payphone and doesn't think I'd call from a different one?_ He glanced down the street. In a drop-dead sprint, he could probably make it to his usual payphone in just under twenty minutes.

His thoughts were halted, however, when the ringing was cut halfway through one of its cycles. Nick grew nervous for a moment, wondering if the answering machine had picked up again, only to hear on the other end of the line the sound of the phone being fumbled. "Shoot!" a muffled voice spoke out, sending a shiver down the fox's spine as he visibly relaxed. He released a long breath he did not know he was holding, relief still washing over him when he heard the phone being picked up and placed against her face. "Officer Judy Hopps," she said into the microphone, her clear voice soothing to Nick's ears in no small measure.

The fox's pointed ears pivoted backwards on his head, relaxing profusely as if the sound was physically comforting, though they lost none of their alertness. "I always thought that phone was a little big for you," he said steadily, spending an inordinate amount of energy to hide the elation in his voice. "You should get one of those phone cases with the rubber grips."

"Nick!" she chirped, and he could hear the sound of a chair creaking as she did. "I'm sorry! I completely lost track of time and I was nowhere near my phone when it went off. I busted my butt trying to get my crutches."

Nick's eyebrows rose to the brick in front of him. "There's no need to beat yourself up about it," he replied, dismissing his initial worry with the fact that she sounded fine. "How's your day been treating you?"

She sighed heavily, and he heard her shuffle some paper in front of her. "Equal parts mortifying and good," she grumbled absently. "They make me sound like a floozy."

Chuckling, the fox turned from the payphone to look out into the illuminated rain. "Ah," he replied. "I see you've got your paws on this city's finest example of investigative journalism to date." He couldn't help the smile that split his face as he continued to chuckle. "At least you weren't called _'foxy'_."

Judy snorted. "And I suppose being _'vulnerable'_ and _'looking at ease, even comfortable, in the arms of her natural predator'_ is glowing praise?" she asked, her voice turning up at the end as if she was masking amusement at the whole affair. "At least they didn't write about you like damsel in distress."

"Hey," he defended, placing one of his paws on his chest despite the fact that she couldn't see him. "I'll have you know I am _very_ comforting."

She scoffed, but couldn't help the giggles that followed. "Oh, yes. Your bedside manners are unmatched, I remember quite well," she replied. Nick could hear her toss the paper across the desk with a thwap. "Other than that _delightful_ read, one that had me as the subject of this morning's gossip brunch, I had a pretty okay day just lazing about. We got the power back, and no vegetable duty for me!"

Nick smiled at the sound of her apparent triumph, and threw his elbow up over the top of the payphone fixture to lean into it. "Oh, the woes of rabbits," he mused slowly. "Sounds like you're having a blast with your vacation."

"It has its ups and downs," she replied. "On one paw I can't take my morning runs while I'm recovering, and there's that little point of not being out there in uniform, but I think I'm getting along okay." She hummed to herself as the sound of a pen scribbling something down filled the call. Nick thought about the face she'd make when she saw the orange plastic present in his pocket. "How are things for you?"

 _Better now_ , he kept to himself. "Not bad, Carrots," he drawled out, nodding his head slowly. "Not bad." He listened to her breathing for a moment, catching the faint sound of her pen moving across paper. "I'd say I was surprised you were actually _bummed out_ about the fact you couldn't run at whatever ridiculous hour you probably do it, but that's honestly not surprising in the slightest."

Judy hummed into the microphone. "You should start, Slick," she replied, and Nick continued to hear the scratching of a pen. "I'm sure a good run every morning will show you how it can make the rest of the day feel great!"

"I think I get plenty of exercise already," he said absently, a smile present in his voice thanks to her infectious enthusiasm. Nick did raise an eyebrow when the sound of writing became too much to ignore, and he could tell Judy was concentrating on what she was doing. "Am I catching you at a bad time over there, Fluff? What are you working on?"

The sound of a pen being clicked rapidly filled the air between them. "Oh, it's actually perfect timing you called," she replied.

Nick's brow rose to meet the other that was already well up on his forehead. "Really?" he asked with interest, leaning further back into the brick behind him.

"Yeah," she chirped, and the call calmed after that, the only sound being Judy's large buck teeth tapping against her pen as she thought. "I'm working on my apology speech - you know, the letter Chief told me to write?" She paused as if waiting for a reply, but it became apparent by the furious scratching of her pen that she was probably more focused on her speech than Nick. "We talked earlier and he thought it would be best if I was to give a speech instead of just writing a letter, and I was wondering what word I should use here."

"You need help thinking of a word?" he asked, an amused smirk growing over his long muzzle. "You don't have a thesaurus lying around in those giant stacks of books?"

"I already checked, actually," she replied, and he heard her quickly run her thumb over the edge of a book's pages, letting them fall back into place with rapid succession. "I was going to start off talking about how I made the connection, and how I jumped to conclusions really unprofessionally, but I'm stuck." She returned to chewing on her pen absently as she picked up a paper. Nick heard a frustrated noise as she dropped the paper back down on her desk to furiously scribble something out again. Sighing, Judy slumped back into her chair, causing the wood to creak in protest.

"The news anchor said that I made the connection with _'traditionally'_ predatory animals, but that's not the right word at all," she said, lost in thought. "It makes it sound like you guys were just carnivores by choice, and you were doing that stuff because that's what predators did." She stuck the pen back into her mouth to free up her paw, speaking through her clenched teeth. "That's like saying I'm a _'traditionally'_ meek mammal; it's not fair and it just reinforces the stereotype." She went on, scratching her cheek loudly.

Nick scoffed, his muzzle being taken by a smile once again. "It's like you're running for office with how you're slaving over the vocabulary," he said, leaning his head back into the brick. "You should hire a speechwriter."

"Come on, Nick," she replied with a pout. "I'm serious here."

The fox brought up his paw to stroke the underside of his chin in thought. "You want my opinion?" he asked. A tone played in his ear and Nick plucked two coins out from the styrofoam cup, smoothly inserting them one after another into the slot.

"Of course I want your opinion," she replied resolutely, as if she thought it was a dumb question.

"Okay," Nick said with a few nods of his head. He pushed off the wall to stand in front of the fixture squarely, crossing his one free paw over his chest. "Don't write a speech."

The call grew quiet for a moment as Judy considered his words. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice reflecting how she didn't know how to react to that statement.

"Don't write a speech," Nick repeated himself. "Just go up there and talk to them from the heart. Not wanting to fail again with all this careful semantics is…" His voice trailed off as he tried to find the best word to use, which the fox found a little funny considering the context. "Appreciated," he finally finished, thinking it best to abandon his own consideration of his verbiage. "But maybe what this city needs is a lot less dignified speeches with painstaking wording and a little more heartfelt confessions, even if it's a bit rough around the edges."

Judy snorted loudly at that, and he heard her toss her pen down onto the table haphazardly. "Because I'm _so_ good without a script," she replied sarcastically.

"I think a lot of predators would like it if you were genuine," he said, his eyes sliding over the angular architecture that surrounded him absently, watching the rain as it continued to pelt the artificial stone and pavement. "There have been a lot of cops over the years that had to apologize for something they said or did, and none of them really convinced me. They always seemed a little irritated they had to be there." Nick let his words sink in for a moment. "I know what this means to you, Carrots, and I don't want them to go around thinking you were just given some flash cards by some political cronies."

She sighed sadly, and he could hear her head thump down onto the desk. "I don't know if I can do that, Nick," she said, her voice reverberating off of the surface pressed up against her forehead. "What if I freeze up? What if I say the wrong thing again?"

Nick considered it. The growing feeling in the bottom of his stomach that made him want to not just be talking on the other end of a phone made his ears twitch erratically, and it distracted him as he tried to come up with a solution to her problem. The feeling gave him an idea, though. "How about I be there?" he asked happily. "I'll be your own personally cheerleader."

"Yeah?" she asked hopefully.

"Of course," Nick replied. "I know a thing or two about sewing, and I can have my own outfit made by the end of the week." He retrieved the carrot pen from his pocket and made a show of clicking the green leaf facsimiles next to the microphone for effect. Sticking the pawset between his head and shoulders as he brought his paw out in front of himself, and pretended to get ready to jot down a note on the pad of his palm. "What do you think, full-body bunny suit or cheer outfit with your face on the back?" he asked, dead serious.

Judy groaned loudly, though he could tell her mouth curved up into a toothy smile. "Oh, cheese and crackers neither," she said hurriedly, sitting back up in her chair with a creak. "Do you have any idea what the headlines will look like?"

Nick clicked the pen back closed, twirling it around in his paw dexterously while retrieving the pawset from the crook of his neck. "Are you telling me that now that you have the power to create headlines," he said playfully. "You have absolutely no desire to abuse it?"

"If it means I continue my streak of embarrassing myself in the worst way imaginable, absolutely not," she replied. "I would much rather go back to when I didn't even make it in the first fifty pages, and got a column that did nothing but made fun of me for being the first bunny in the ZPD."

Leaning back into the payphone fixture, the fox glanced back into the rain. "I wouldn't say that," he mumbled distantly, the thoughts of Judy being ridiculed for something as innocuous as being a police officer making his ears twitch. He hadn't considered the idea that she wasn't just laughed at by everyone within her immediate vicinity, but everyone that read the paper, too. "I think I would prefer being a clown on the front page more than a laughing stock in the back." Nick returned his lidded gaze back to the payphone as if he could see Judy's reaction to his words. "Been there done that."

The call was silent for a time. "You were in the paper?" she asked.

Nick nodded slowly, finally stopping the motion of his head from continuing when he reminded himself _again_ that she couldn't see him. "A long time ago, yeah," he replied. "That was the picture I was telling you about in my wallet the other day."

"Oh, right," she said, lost in thought. "I never did get to see it." The line was quiet for a time, and the odd pair of mammals listened to each other's gentle breathing. Nick had found himself wondering more and more what was going through the rabbit's head, for no other reason than to just know. Judy was the one to break the silence. "You left your radio, by the way."

"Keep it," Nick replied plainly, not seeing any reason why he would want the radio back. It had cost him a pretty penny, like a lot of things, but living now in the straight and narrow, he figured she would probably find more use out of it than him. "I don't need it anymore." The fox turned back away from the fixture and leaned against the brick wall, his mind trailing away from the conversation to his brief appearance in the paper. "I'll show you the picture when you get back in town, but it's not exactly flattering. It is pretty funny, though, looking back on it. It's of me, Gramps, and mom sitting on the curb in pawcuffs."

Nick could hear her nose twitch, the fur of her muzzle brushing against the edge of the electronic device in sporadic palpitations. "Arrested?" she asked with an edge to her voice. "When was this?"

The fox smiled at her exasperation and tapped his chin playfully in thought. "Let's see…" he said with a hum. "It was I think a year after that happened, so…" Nick chuckled when she made a frustrated noise, clearly not enjoying his toying procrastination. "Calm down, Fluff. I was nine at the time."

Judy grew quiet as she thought. "You were arrested when you were nine years old?" she asked. "What happened?"

"Oh, I wasn't arrested," he replied. "They detained us and sat us down in front of our house because they had a search warrant. The ZPD is no friend to ol' Gramps, that's for sure, but they didn't find anything." Nick's eyes traced the storm's movement, the rain curving in the air before it met the hard ground. The wind had become something of a nuisance to the fox, being as small as he was, and quickly made a note of taking a different way back to the lot if the wind hadn't died down by the end of the phone call.

"The article was in a smaller paper," he said, returning to the story. "And they called us a 'family of undesirables' that somehow could afford to live outside the slums." Nick scoffed loudly. The words had been fairly familiar to him, as he had spent a lot of time thinking about the story back when he was younger. It had reminded him of what mammals would always think of foxes, no matter what they tried to do. "They retracted it after our landlord, a good friend of my mom's, nearly kicked down the door to the printing press. That was a great week, let me tell you."

Judy let out a long, defeated sigh. "I can't imagine," she whispered dejectedly. "When I was nine I was dressing up in a police costume and running around Bunnyburrow pretending to solve cases." On the other end of the line, Nick could feel her thinking. He didn't enjoy knowing that she felt sorry for him, as pity was an emotion he couldn't stand, but he knew that she didn't mean it in a condescending way, not like all the others. "I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that, Nick," she said softly into the microphone, barely above a whisper.

Nick glanced down to his hind paws, raking his claws through a splotch of mud that had clung to his elbow. "It all sounds pretty bad when you think about it," he replied slowly, his lidded eyes downcast. "But I'm alive, healthy, and for the most part unscathed, so it's not like I need the pity." The fox immediately changed his demeanor, pushing off the wall only to toss his elbow up onto the fixture to support his weight. "So what do you say, Fluff?" he asked in an easy tone, his usual lidded smile returning to him. "You want a fox like me to cheer you on from the sidelines while you cry on ZNN?"

A light giggle sung through the pawset, making the fox's smile grow wider. "I would love it," she replied, a smile present in her voice. "Just remember if I start crying, you've got to come up and finish it for me." Nick could hear her chair creak as she leaned back into it. "There's no way I'm going to break down on television. I wouldn't be able to show my face around ever again it would be so embarrassing."

Chuckling, Nick paused when another tone played into his ear. "We'll see, Carrots," he drawled out as he stuck two more coins into the machine. Nick was beginning to wonder if it would be cheaper to buy a normal phone at this point. _If I keep this up_ , he thought. _I'm pretty sure it will be_. "You've got plenty of opportunity to cry on camera yet."

"I changed my mind," she retorted with a smile. "You'll be nowhere near the press conference, because I know you'll try to pull something to embarrass me." Nick joined her giggles with his own dry chuckle. "That was your plan all along, wasn't it?"

"Who, me?" Nick said, playing innocent by removing his elbow from the top of the fixture to place a paw over his chest. He was powerless to the toothy smile that split his features, making it impossible for him to feign any kind of ignorance. "I would never dream of doing something so _devious_."

"Uh-huh," she droned, and he heard again the lazy circling of her dull claw on her desk.

Nick's smile taped as the silence dragged on, though it lost none of the genuine feeling that was so often lacking in his usual lidded gaze. He sighed slowly, his ears pivoting to catched the sound of the rain patter down on the mammalian stone and of the city at night. "I am serious, though," he said in a low murmur. "I'll be there if you want me to."

The silence on the other end of the line was deafening as Judy had stopped her lazy drawing with her claws. "I'm glad," she finally replied in a quiet, though immensely happy, tone. Nick could hear her pick up the circular motion again, this time with longer strokes. "I'll need you."

There was a feeling, in the pit of Nick's stomach, that grew with the words, as if it were leaves to sunlight. It emanated with it a dull warmth that spread up into his chest, warming every inch of his fur despite his healthy coating in chilling water. It was a feeling so unfamiliar to him not long ago, yet had become such a breath of fresh air in the days since she had come back. "Stop it, Carrots," he said in a joking tone, hiding his bashfulness. "You're going to make this old dog blush." Nick sighed heavily, listening to Judy's light giggles with a broad smile. "I'll add the full-body rabbit suit to the list and get to work on it tomorrow."

"Oh, no you won't," she replied seriously, though a smile still broke through her stern voice. "You'll wear something normal that isn't a gaudy Hawaiian shirt, and certainly not a rabbit costume."

"Are you picking out what I'm wearing now?" he asked playfully after a spout of dry chuckles. "I don't know if I can do this, Fluff. It's all moving so fast."

Scoffing, Judy could be heard throwing her elbow up onto the desk loudly, only for her head to be propped up by her paw. This, Nick could tell by the fact that when she spoke, it sounded like her face had been smooshed up. "That's enough of that, thank you," she said sharply, puffing out a bit of air. "I get plenty of that sort of talk from the newspapers."

Nick hummed at her, a smile splitting his face to the point that his whole maw of sharp teeth were on display for the deserted, rainy street. "You're just angry that they're reminding you about all you're missing out on, Cottontail."

Judy snorted. "In your dreams, Wilde," she retorted with a smile.

"You're breaking my heart," Nick replied, feigning hurt. "Double the blueberries and I'll consider forgiving you."

"You'll just consider it, will you?"

Nick smiled widely. "I like keeping my options open," he replied.

Judy giggled, her light breathy sounds of amusement music to Nick's sensitive ears. After she was done, a contented sigh escaped her lips, and they continued each other's growing favorite pastime, being comfortably silent in the other's company. Nick couldn't help but rest his chin on a paw that he propped up on the smaller payphone fixture, smiling lazily at nothing in particular as he listened to her breathing. The dull, warm feeling returned again as his eyes slid closed to the world. Judy was the one to break the long silence. "So, I heard you went over to the precinct today," she said quietly.

"Yup," Nick replied, keeping his eyes shut despite his brow raising up onto his forehead. "Unlike you, I have had a very productive day. I've been all over town, given my statement about the whole ordeal, bribed some crickets out of one of your coworkers, and was even in time for my nightly phone call."

"I heard about that," she said breathily. "Are you solving cases without me over there, Slick? What's that about?"

"Jealous?" Nick asked, opening his eyes as if to see her face, only slightly disappointed when all his eyes met were brick. "It's not my fault the ZPD lost their only competent member to an unfortunate leg injury."

Judy hummed at him, and he again heard the familiar lazy tracing of circles with her dull claw against her desk. "The Chief said you just walked in with evidence that blew a case wide open," she replied. "How did you even get it?"

Chuckling, Nick pushed off the smaller payphone fixture so he could fiddle with the volume knob on his own, increasing it. "I have my ways," he said playfully. "Since I'm an informant now, it's not like I have a reason _not_ to inform the cops about something." The fox snorted loudly when he was done with the dial, turning from the fixture to watch the rain. "The guy is a scumbag, anyway. They all are."

"How did you find out about it?"

"He tried to recruit me into his gang of foxes he had going around drumming up sales for fox repellent," Nick recalled bitterly, not feeling any remorse that the whole consortium of scumbags were probably be warming a jail cell at The Zoo by the end of the week. "I was actually doing the job for Big when I met him, and he practically couldn't keep his mouth shut about it. He's a real piece of work."

The line was quiet for a moment, even absent the relaxing sound of Judy's absentminded, restless behavior. "The job for Big, huh?" she whispered slowly.

Nick's ears swiveled backwards on his head because of the tone she used. "It's done," he informed her sternly. "I finished that this morning, too. He won't be coming around ever again, asking about either one of us." He waved his paw through the air as if to give weight to his words. "We officially no longer know each other."

Judy sighed defeatedly, and he could hear her press her paw into her head as she scraped her scalp with her claws. "That's great news," she said. "Maybe now we can just get on with our lives…" Her voice trailed off as it took on a rougher edge, her brain finally catching onto a detail in Nick's explanation. "Either of us?"

"Yup," he replied simply. "The reason I took the job was because I was buying _you_ out just as much as me."

"Why would you do that?" she asked mortified, wiping the smile right off of Nick's face. "You put yourself in harm's way for _my_ mistake?" He could hear the hurt in her voice, and his ears followed the smile as they splayed against the back of his head. "Nick, you could have _died_. What would I have done with myself if that happened?"

"It's done, Carrots," he reassured her, throwing his free paw up into the air before gesturing wildly around the little cubby in the base of the building. "I'm fine, you're fine, it's all okay."

Judy scoffed loudly. "What was the job?"

Nick scratched the cream colored fur of his neck nervously, tilting his snout upwards with a grimace on his face. "I'm not sure-"

"What was the job?" she repeated herself harshly, cutting him off.

Nick grew silent. A part of him didn't want to tell her, and just explain to her that it's just better for everyone if she didn't know the details. Another part of him, however, droned on in the back of his mind, similar to the dull warmth in his stomach, telling him to let her in. The feeling persisted to the point that he felt like he _couldn't_ lie to her, not just that he didn't want to. "Counterfeit merchandise," Nick replied softly, running a paw over the top of his head to smooth down his already splayed ears. "Big got his little paws on some spoofed Fox Away lookalikes. I was selling it around town."

The call was silent for a moment. "You were selling fox repellent?" she asked with an unreadable tone.

"Yeah," he replied. "It's technically a little milder than the real McCoy, and it doesn't have even a fraction of the amount of uses, but..." His voice trailed off into the night. Nick's snout slowly tilted upwards from its position of pointing at his hind paws, and he looked over the deserted street. The yellow light of the streetlamps only illuminated the bottom halves of the building, the rest being dark silhouettes against the black, starless sky. "Yeah. I was selling fox repellent," he said distantly, finishing his thought. The words didn't sound right on his tongue, and they likely never would. He was, in a way, glad that the words were his, though. He had been willing to do a lot more to make sure she was safe.

"Why would you agree to that?" she asked, her soft voice pleading.

Nick shrugged with a haggard sigh. "That was the deal he offered," he replied. "I wasn't about to let my personal feelings get in the way of making sure that little monster didn't try to use you for his own ends."

"Nick, you can't do that," she implored him. "It's my mess, and you can't go around taking those kinds of bullets for me. It's my responsibility."

"A 'thank you' would be nice, you know," he grumbled, bringing up his free paw to pinch his snout between his green eyes.

"That's not…" she said, her voice trailing off until she let out a sad breath. "I just don't want you to get hurt." Nick heard her head make contact with the desk again, louder than the last time. He pictured in his mind her ears draped down her slim back as she sat slumped into her desk. "I have been so worried, sitting here in this room. It was all I could to not call Bogo and put you in protective custody just to keep you away from them." She was silent for a moment, trying desperately to control her emotions. "Do you have any idea what it feels like, knowing your best friend is out there, probably in danger, and you can barely walk across the room?"

"I wasn't in any danger," he reassured her in a careful tone, fiddling with the pawset cable absently. "It's over, Carrots. I never have to even see those mammals again."

Judy leaned back into her chair with a loud creak, and they went back to existing silently together. Nick could get used to this. In fact, he already was in a lot of ways. Nick was no stranger to existing silently with another mammal within his vicinity, what with all the time he had spent with Finnick, but one thing that surprised him was how easy it was for him to relax in her presence. Not even the fennec was able to quiet his constant jittery apprehension, but Judy somehow had the power to make him feel blind to the world around him, despite the fact that she was so far away. "I wish you stayed," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Nick hummed at her. "And done what?" he asked. "Work part time as a farm hand during the day and spend the nights having sleepovers?" He clicked his tongue off of his sharp teeth, throwing his elbow over the fixture to lean into it. "It's an ugly world, Carrots. I had to do something about all of the mistakes I have made sometime, and I finally have." The fox grew silent for a moment, the thoughts and memories of his life feeling more and more like a distant memory. "I can do whatever I want to now."

The sound of Judy lazily drawing circles grew out of the silence again, and her voice rose above it gently. "Maybe you should come back to Bunnyburrow, then," she offered, her tone sincere even though it was meant as a joke. "With all the rain we could use a couple more paws." She waited for Nick to stop chuckling before she finished her thought, feigning a seductive voice. "I'll let you pick the movies."

"Don't tempt me," he replied, a genuine smile splitting his muzzle. "I still have to see to a couple more things here in the city."

Nick settled back into a comfortable silence with Judy, his lidded gaze tracing the grid pattern of the brick without really seeing it. His thoughts drifted to the rapidly approaching future, and the notion that his list of things that needed to be done were quickly diminishing. Nick did not know what he was going to do after all of this, but one thing was certain in his mind. Whatever he did, whether it was going to be some soul-crushing office job or something else, he knew he wanted to have Judy be a part of it. It was a selfish thought, one that the fox believed to go against every rationale he had developed over his long life, but he felt it all the same.

Despite the fox's extreme aversion to uncertainty, he was welcoming the future, which was every bit uncertain as it could possibly be. With Judy with him, he believed they were capable of overcoming any obstacle, be it the disapproving eyes of society or anything else. The one thing that struck the fox as he thought were the echos of three simple words. They had reverberated inside his head since the moment she said them, and the red fox felt his fur prickle as that familiar sensation grew from his stomach. _"My best friend,"_ she had said, and it made him feel more alive than he ever thought possible.


	18. A brighter future

_10:45 am, September 17th_

* * *

The sound of the splash was immediately muffled by the plunge into the murky water, and the fox opened his eyes, with some difficulty, to a muddied visibility of only a few inches in front of his muzzle. The dive had taken him some ways below the surface, having straightened out his body in the air to penetrate the water with adequate force. With the grey light of the storm only permeating through the canopy with a fraction of its power, the light that continued down into the murky depths was even weaker, making it even more difficult for vulpine to see what he was doing, which would already be very challenging.

Nick waited a fraction of a moment for his vertical posture to carry him as low as it would before kicking further below the surface. He brought out from his chest a steel crowbar, holding it downwards as he used his legs to propel himself towards the bottom. It did not take him long before he reached the grimy bed of brightly colored algae and muck, shoving a paw into the midst of the growth and feeling around for a familiar object. The task was time consuming, and he had already done it several times. After so many attempts to locate the object of his desire, the fox finally felt a metal bar brush his paw below the mass of algae.

Using the hooked end of the crowbar, Nick took to scooping away the green growth, each scythe-like motion revealing more and more of a metal footlocker, rusted and painted in the markings of a long habitation below the surface. It had either sunk further, or the buildup of mud had accumulated, because the locker sat unevenly on the ground, halfway buried in the mire. Nick took little time to thrust the straighter end of the bar into the loose opening of the locker, wedging the metal between the lid and the rest of the box, only halted in its parting of the container by a thoroughly inoperable padlock.

The fox used the leverage he had on the footlocker to bring the rest of his body downward, sticking his hind paws into the mud in search of a couple L-brackets that had been bolted to the side of the footlocker. Using all of his might, and no small amount of the oxygen he still possessed, the fox pried the lip off the locker. The metal bowing before the rusted hasp lock cracked, snapping off of the footlocker and disappearing into the algae. Nick looked down into the container as the force of the prying continued to propel the lid through the water sluggishly, and his eyes met a sickly red bag.

Thoroughly out of breath, the fox pushed himself off the bayou's floor, kicking with a fervent intensity towards the surface, red rucksack in paw. His lungs felt like a void that desperately begged for air, the pain of the carbon buildup in his body blackening his vision every moment he remained surrounded by the murky water. Finally, with a desperate gasp, Nick broke the surface, swinging his snout up into the air as his maw opened far beyond what was considered polite. The breath was more than welcoming, but he could not stop his exhaustive kicking lest he find himself dragged back into the depths with the weight he was carrying.

Nick's resurface was met with a battering of falling water. It was not the usual sprinkler system of the Rainforest district, however, as that had been shut off because of the storm. Quickly trying to find his bearings, the fox's green eyes searched around his surroundings until he saw the edge of a decrepit pier, coated in a healthy covering of moss, though it looked anything but healthy. He swam, with some effort, over to the end of the wooden structure before he tiredly threw the paw holding onto the crowbar over a brace. There the fox remained for a time, catching his breath underneath a crumbling pier, still mostly submerged.

The water that flooded the majority of the district was a lot warmer than the chilling September storm, and Nick found himself lounging in the murky liquid for longer than he really wanted to. Finally feeling like he had regained his composure, he pushed off from the underside of the bridge back into the rain. Once he was there, he lunged out of the water and swung his crowbar over his head, hooking onto the lip of the pier. With no small amount of effort, the fox hoisted himself out of the water far enough to swing the red bag up onto the rotting dock, falling back into the water tiredly.

Nick took another short break before grabbing onto the crowbar with both paws, pulling his soaked frame up high enough to grab onto the wood directly. Strenuously, he heaved himself higher, tossing the crowbar next to the bag so he could scramble the rest of the way onto the pier. By the time he flopped onto his bare back, his hind paws still dangling over the edge, Nick was wishing that the day could be over already. His eyes closed to the canopy that stretched hundreds of feet into the air, and he swallowed his breath in an attempt to remain what semblance of energy he had left.

Thunder shook the base of the flooded district, it's slow rumbling aftershock filling the fox's ears with deep reverberations. It was still raining. A feat that Nick did not think even slightly possible, believing that the storm had surely dropped a whole ocean's worth of water onto the city already. Letting out a drawn out sigh, he slowly opened his eyes to the lush surroundings. The gray clouds were just barely visible beyond the shrouding canopy that seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction from where the fox way laying. Being at the very bottom of the sprawling rainforest always instilling a sense of unbelievable scale in the small fox.

The catwalks that connected the giant trees and the houses nestles in them did little to improve the chaotic aesthetic of the Rainforest district. Small houses and establishments cluttered the trunks and roots of the massive living structures, billowing out of the branches with long supports and sturdy roofs. Lights shown through the torrential downpour from the tiny buildings around the canopy and the bayou below. Nick sat up, running his eyes over the body of water that covered this part of the district. It was a beautiful sight, in every way that the fox could describe.

Across the water was a shantytown of wooden structures, growing chaotically out of the depths of the district. The small river communities were always a sight to see, homes and docks built on stilts above the murky water. None of them connected to the little land around them, so mammals could only access the barges and platforms by boat. It was a rarity to even see them with working power, though the one across from Nick reflected dim windows and spotlights that cut through the rain over the rippling water surface. His eye trailed around the submerged bases of the enormous trees, his attention running over the sights and sounds of the unique place.

The atmospheric augmentation machines stuck out of the water like smokestacks, the thick metal grates on the tops protecting the mechanisms below and beckoned the rising steam out. Their sides were covered in thick moss and grime, spreading a sickly green up the side of the stainless steel. It was by far the most _alive_ part of the entire city, like all of the small settlements and homes worked together with the thick vegetation to keep the soggy trees and barges afloat. There was something so tranquil about the whole place that Nick had found himself travelling to the district just to walk around on so many occasions.

On cool mornings, the waterfront would be lined with mammals trying their paws at catching food for their families, and the light drizzling of rain would patter the wooden decks of the catwalks, birds singing in the small hours of dawn. It was sheltering, in a way, like a mother protecting its young. Nick liked walking through the district at night, when it was quiet, the only sound being the sprinklers. He would watch the mist billow and wrap itself around the colossal trunks, snaking its way through the river barges and over boats. It was a thin line between primordial and civilized, one that was only defined by your point of view.

Through the mist and rain Nick spotted a pair of spinning lights grow in strength a ways down the water. A ZPD swamp patrol boat slowly made its way into view, blinking red and blue lights on its mast. Nick got up, believing it was high time he made his escape back into the jungle. The police marine units usually only patrolled the waterways for show, as well as monitoring for signs of flooding beyond the norm, but it was not the time to hang around, especially when he was in possession of what he was. The fox retrieved his crowbar and shouldered the red bag, taking one last glance at the river patrol.

Nick sighed loudly, his ears swiveling backwards on his head as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, staring out at the red and blue lights in the distance. He shrugged his thoughts away, turning from the water to cautiously make his way down the mossy, rotting pier. Each board creaked or bowed with his pawfalls, making the fox keep his weight closer to the edges where the planks met the stilts. He could have sworn it was in better shape when he had hid the bag. _Of course, that was nearly a decade ago_ , he thought, using his crowbar as a cane to help spread out his weight, not wanting to fall back in.

Finally relieved to have his hind paws on solid ground, or at least as solid as soaked rainforest floor could be, the vulpine shook out as much water from his coat as he could. The small clearing that bordered the water's edge had on it the remnants of an old building, only brick walls and rotting pieces of the roof remaining. Nick slipped into a crumbling doorway, tossing his bag and crowbar onto a pile of discarded bricks before turning to the items be had previously left behind. Draped over a soaking charred piece of wood, a spliced collar shirt and a tie was neatly hanging, protected by a section of roof that had yet to collapse.

Snatching the shirt, Nick quickly slipped into it. The sleeves and collar were a grey-blue color, a noticeable change from the brightly colored dress he normally wore. The chest piece of the shirt, however, was a radiant lime green, accented by canary yellow tropical flowers. Paired with his dark blue tie, the outfit matched nicely with his grey slacks. There was a lot that could be said about his eccentric fashion decisions, but he liked it anyway. It had quickly evolved from a camouflage of plain sight into just what he felt comfortable in. There was an invisibility that came with being plainly visible, and that line was a comfortable one for the fox.

Nick slung his tie over his shoulders after he was done buttoning up his shirt, not bothering to tie it at the present time. Instead, he retrieved the things he had haphazardly discarded onto a pile of bricks and sauntered his way back out of the abandoned structure. Taking a glance over the water, he saw the boat had come significantly closer now, and quickly made his retreat into the dense foliage. The jungle was a treacherous place for those who could not navigate the slick surfaces and winding bluffs, but the fox was by no means uninitiated in the art of finding his way around on foot.

Batting the branches and hooking the enormous leaves with his crowbag to move them out of his path, Nick traveled with a purpose through the maze of vegetation. He could walk blind through every inch of the city, but that did not stop him from pausing every thirty yards to reaffirm the fact that he _was_ going to right way. Both doubt and arrogance had gotten him lost within the vines on a number of occasions, so the fox opted for a mix of the two. Even though the canopy was so tall, it was not uncommon for him to find himself in an area of the overgrown district that had two, or even three, layers of canopies, each making the process of navigation harder.

The air was unbelievably humid. Combining that with the laborious task of trekking through the jungle, lugging around a very heavy metal bar with a full rucksack, and that it had been a very _strenuous_ morning, Nick had taken to panting openly, albeit discreetly. His brow furrowed in thought as he struck another branch with his crowbar. _I hate how careful I am_ , he thought bitterly. _Why couldn't I hide stuff in a normal place? Like on the beach of Sahara Square. That would be nice_. Nick struck another branch, though it wasn't really in his way. _And these are just all the red bags…_ He groaned loudly, rolling his head back in frustration.

Nick shifted the weight of the red bag on his shoulder as he slowed, observing his surroundings with a cautious eyes. Without hesitation, he leaped into a knot of growing trees, protecting him from any prying eyes that might be around. Slinging the bag off of his shoulder onto the ground, he quickly unzipped it, exposing the contents within. The normal belongings that he kept in his caches were pushed aside: cans, paw tools, changes of clothing sealed in their own waterproof container, and various other items, all relatively dry thanks to the natural waterproofing of the red rucksack itself, were all discarded as he spotted the object of his pursuit.

Pulling out a waterproof rifle bag from the rucksack, Nick brought his head back up, ears erect, and glanced around again. Finding nothing he returned his attention back to the specialized container which was almost as rare to see as guns themselves. The todd spent no time grabbing onto the zipper and pulling it around the edge of the black padded sleeve, flipping open the lid once it had been completely unfastened. Staring back up at him, completely dry with its dull, dark grey metal reflecting the muted light, was a Mosin-Nagant M91 Dragoon. The stained wood grain was splotched with black, and the edges were notched.

Gingerly, Nick shouldered the rifle, unlocking the bolt to peer down into the chamber. It was empty. He honestly couldn't remember if he even had any ammo for this gun, and a quick glimpse down into the bag underneath his crouched form confirmed his suspicions. Humming, the fox turned the rifle around in his paws, studying it. After a moment he returned it to its sleeve, refastening the zipped quickly before stuffing it back into his red rucksack. His head popped up to glance around his surroundings again, eyes carefully searching the haze of trees and brush. Again finding nothing, he zipped up the bag, shouldered it, and casually continued his path.

There was a time when Nick kept his arsenal closer to home, even going so far as to keeping a SIG P245 M, the 'M' being a size-class denoted, as one size did _not_ fit all, on his person for nearly eight months. The paranoia was reasonable at the time, but that made it no less stupid to do. Since then, this had been his system, keeping it all spread throughout the city with no connections that could be linked to him. Whether or not it worked was up in the air, as it had only really seen a single use, that being when he was nearly cornered by Raymond and Kevin, and he did not think a single actual usage constituted an effect test of the system.

Guns were a touchy subject in Zootopia. It could be argued that the widespread ban had done more harm than good, with the mammals with intent not immediately turning in their firearms like everyone already expected. Their illegal usage had been curtailed only so far as the wealth of the criminal in question extended. Big, Nick knew, had more guns and ammo than he could realistically use, while most petty criminals just stuck to knives and, a point of contention for a lot of prey groups that argued for the ban to be lifted, their natural claws. This did not mean, however, that they were technically _rare_.

It's true that you did not often _see_ a gun, but one thing the fox had learned in this city was never assume a mammal isn't packing. They hid, much like the grimier side of the city, just below the surface of optimism and inclusivity. After all, if there was not a market, there would not be any being made. There were legal avenues to get your paws on something that can sling metal, of course, but it was often heralded as a joke of a bureaucratic nightmare. It also left little holes for the likes of Nick to get within dreaming distance of a license. It always stuck him as odd how he could get his paws on literally _hundreds_ of guns, but would probably never even see a legal permit.

Nick continued his path through the dense foliage, swatting away massive leaves and ducking under twisting root formations. The tranquil quiet of the jungle slowly gave way to the sounds of civilization as he made his way through the trees, nearing his destination. He paused occasionally, remaining as still as the vegetation around him as his sharp eyes and ears scanned his surroundings, even taking long drags of the cool air to catch any scents that he should be aware of. Like almost every time he had exercised the ritual in his lifetime, there was nothing, which was fine by him.

The fox finally came to a treeline, crouching stealthily at the edge of the jungle to peer out into the open area. A small, slightly flooding, gravel clearing ran for a couple hundred feet next to a winding road, on the other side the face of a cliff that spread high into the air, covered in drooping vines and foliage. It seemed out of place in the dense jungle, a splotch of grey and black in an ocean of green. The treeline spread the length of the gravel clearing and the road, encompassing it in plants of every size and shape imaginable. Sitting idly parked in the gravel clearing, getting battered with rain, was an orange van with a grey door.

Making sure there was no one else around, Nick broke from the treeline and made his way towards the van, jogging with a brisk pace as he held onto the red rucksack with one arm. He was halfway across the clearing when a small form walked out from the behind the vehicle, dressed in a glistening yellow raincoat. He couldn't see the face, but with the specially elongated hood, made to cover enormous ears, Nick knew it was Finnick. Making short order of reaching the van with the Aztec mural painted on the side, the red fox slowed his pace when he was protected from sight of the road, smiling at the fennec that turned to meet his gaze.

"You look like you went for a drink," Finnick said boredly with a sucker sticking out of his maw, bringing up one of his paws to tap his hood. "Ya got some algae on yo' ear."

Nick leaned his crowbar against the van, bringing his paw up to run his claws through the fur of his ear. When he brought his paw back to look at it, sure enough, there was a clump of the slimy muck wrapped around his claw. "Thanks, Fin," he replied, slinging the muck over the gravel. He grabbed the crowbar and made his way towards the back of the van. "Anything?"

"It was as quiet you'd think out here," he replied, watching the red fox move as he pulled the sucker out of his teeth loudly. "I took her out and pulled a couple moves just in case, though. If we did have a tail, we don't anymore." Finnick scratched the side of his long muzzle in thought, his eyes trailing out towards the treeline. "You?"

Snorting, Nick turned to look at the fennec. "Nothing but water and trees. Like always." He cocked his head to the side as he turned back to continue his path. "Let's hit it. We've been here too long."

"Who's fault is that?" his friend grumbled, turning to the driver's side door and flicking the sucker out into the gravel.

The back door of the van clicked open, and the red fox disappeared inside in one swift motion, closing the door behind him. Looking over the contents of the back of the van, Nick slung the crowbar haphazardly into a pile of equally drenched and muddied tools at the foot of a makeshift cot, landing loudly as metal struck metal. After that he unzipped the rucksack again, pulling out the rifle sleeve before tossing the bag onto a growing pile of waterproof red rucksacks, probably more than twenty strong. Nick heard Finnick shut his own door loudly before turning the ignition, the engine of the van roaring to life without hesitation.

Cluttered by the massive pile of red bags, the back of the van barely had any room left for the fox to maneuver. It had been converted into a quasi-living space some time ago, but it was still kept mostly open because of their need to move things around. A couple such things being the green plastic bins that they used to move the pawpsicle sticks from the recycle bins back to the van, one of said plastic bins, the largest one, was turned over next to the back door. It took a moment for his sensitive eyes to adjust to the darker interior of the van as he listen the storm lash against the metal body, the rain reverberating loudly in the interior.

Finnick pulled out onto the street quickly, leaving Nick to brace himself against the van's wall for a moment. After they had settled into the drive, the red fox turned his eyes back to his task. Built flush with the wall of the van, stretching from the back of the passenger seat and almost all the way to the back, was a simple bed. Finnick and Nick had constructed it for a number of reasons, prime amongst them being the fennec needing a place to sleep, but another reason had to be the desire for a compartment of sorts were _things_ of a certain variety could be stored.

Lifting the mattress up, Nick pushed it against the side of the van, revealing a number horizontal planks that acted as the mattress' supports. One by one, the fox removed the planks from the bed frame, and underneath it lay a compartment filled with a random assortment of items. Anything from empty bottles of liquor to unopened packets of pens. It was a chaotic jumble of junk, yet none of it was illegal. Which was why it wasn't the only thing under the bed. Nick grabbed onto each side of the compartment, digging his paws down into the junk to grasp a pair of ropes.

Nick stood up carefully with the giant tray of junk, lifting the entire compartment out from underneath the bed to reveal the second layer below. Hidden beneath it all was a pile of firearms that was quickly growing: a Smith & Wesson Eastfield, Glock 30, Walther PPK (with a suppressor), Winchester M94, MAS-49, Rossi 461, Colt Python, Stoeger Coach Gun, his old SIG P245, Smith & Wesson M686, Remington M700 CDL - the list went on. The pile of metal stared up at the fox menacingly as he tossed the Mosin onto the top, adding to the already obscene collection. Sparing one more glance at the assortment of deadly weapons, Nick snorted loudly before replacing the facade.

The red fox went to laying the boards of wood across the frame after he had lowered the tray into the compartment, finally letting the bed fall back into place when he was done. Sighing, Nick climbed up to the front and slumped into the passenger seat, closing his eyes to the passing jungle and rain. He took in a long breath, holding it in before slowly releasing it through his nose as he ran his paws down over his long muzzle.

"What did you bring me this time?" Finnick mumbled irritatedly. Nick opened his eyes to glance over at the fennec, seeing he had removed his hood and was propping his head up with his paw as he glared ahead. "What do I have in my van _now_ that could throw me in the Zoo for good?"

Nick watched his friend for a moment, turning away to look out his own window before replying. "Mosin," Nick replied lazily, running his claws through the cream colored fur of his neck before noticing he had still not tied the knot in his tie. Letting out a light growl, he quickly got to work with the fabric.

"The Mosin?" he asked, shooting a glance over to the red fox. "You hid the hundred year old gun at the bottom of a goddamn swamp?"

"It was dry," he defended, sighing loudly. "It's as new as the day I bought it."

Finnick hummed, keeping his eyes on the overgrown road. "I thought you told me you sold it."

Nick glanced back over to the fennec through the corner of his eye, gauging his reaction. "I told you I sold a lot of that stuff back there."

"I noticed," he replied simply, his expression unreadable. After a long moment he let a drawn out breath from his snout as he slumped back into his booster seat, glaring ahead. "Have you sold _any_ of 'em?"

The red fox chewed on this inside of his cheek as he studied the mammal next to him. "No," he drawled out carefully. "Everything like that I have has _stayed_ in my possession." He rolled his head around in thought before retrieving a black ledger from between the seats. "You never know who you're selling to when the merchandise is one of those things, so I have a policy of making sure they never make it back into circulation."

"Oh, and I guess you were just lyin' to me then?" he asked, shooting a sharp glance over in Nick's direction as he unfastened the ledger's bungee. "What the hell _else_ do you think I should be in on?"

Nick looked up from the ledger as he opened it. "Now's not really the time, Fin," he replied. "And I hardly think that attitude is fair. We knew exactly what kind of confidence we were putting into this thing between us."

"This thing between us?" he asked indignantly, his brow furrowing dangerously as he glared over at the red fox.

"Don't be like that," Nick said flatly, thumbing through the pages of the black book in his lap. "You know what I meant."

Finnick scoffed loudly before descending into a sputter of dark chuckles. "You know," he said casually. "After the past week, I really don't think I _do_. Either I don't know you as well as I thought I did, or you _have_ lost your damn mind."

Nick glanced over to the fennec, cocking his brow. "For the record, you do understand that we never knew much details about each other for a _reason_ , yeah?" he asked, only to receive a snort in response. "Finnick, up until this point we have primarily been _business_ partners. Yeah, we rolled around as buddies from time to time, but the main thing that kept up our friendship was the money were were making going around conning mammals."

"And what is it now?" he asked, giving Nick a sideways look.

"Plain friendship," Nick replied seriously, his gaze fixed on the fennec beside him. Finnick just scoffed, causing the red fox's brow to furrow as he continued to stare. "I'm serious."

Finnick slowly turned his head to give the predator beside him a studious look before returning his eyes to the road. "Yeah, okay," he said flatly. "Riskin' my hide to help you do whatever it is we're doin' with these things when I was told you didn't even have most of 'em anymore." He nodded his head sarcastically, pursing his lips as he did so. "Makes sense. That's exactly what I picture friends doin'."

"Yes, I lied to you," Nick replied firmly. "Yes, you have every right to be pissed off at me, but I need your help right now, Fin." He lifted the ledger into the air, flapping it around so the fennec could see it in his peripheral vision. "This is a mess that I _have_ to clean up. Every moment that these things stay out there is a moment they could fall into the hands of the _wrong_ mammal."

" _Nobody_ has ever taken a red bag," Finnick replied, baring his teeth as he shot an accusatory claw towards the red fox. "Blue bags, sure, you've told me it's happened, but you have always said that it was impossible for someone to just happen across one of those things." He replaced his paw back onto the steering wheel, quieting down as he thought. "Unless that's a lie, too," he grumbled.

Nick just gazed at the fennec. "It wasn't."

"Then what the hell is the goddamn hurry?" he snapped, turning his head completely to glare at Nick.

Shaking his head slowly at him, Nick just gave the fennec the most sincere shrug he could muster. "The quicker I'm done with this, the quicker I can move on, Fin," he replied softly, hooking his thumb towards the back. "Each one of those bags back there is more than just a rucksack with a gun hidden in it. Every single one that I hid was me accepting that I might have had to _shoot_ somebody at some point, and the longer they're out there, the greater the chance that _that_ ," he snarled, gesturing wildly with his paw before pointing directly at the fennec. "Is _exactly_ what they're going to be used for."

Finnick glanced over to the red fox, watching him shake his head slowly. "Not on my watch," Nick said nasally, eyes wide with determination. "They've got to go."

He scoffed at Nick, looking up into his rear-view mirror to watch the pile of red rucksacks. "What the hell are we even goin' to _do_ with all of 'em?" he asked. "Put 'em in Sharp's casket?"

Nick groaned, running his paws down his long muzzle in irritation. "No," he replied. "No point in digging up a grave. Reynard can stay buried." His head fell backwards into the seat, and he found himself staring up at the ceiling of the van. The patter of the rain picked up again as they drove, and Finnick increased the speed of the windshield wipers with the turn of a knob. Nick sucked in a shrill breath through his teeth in thought. "We're going to have to dump them anyway if we end up just disassembling them, and we'll have to spend the time to spread the pieces out far enough."

"Okay, genius," Finnick replied sarcastically. "What the hell do we do with them, then?"

His emerald eyes slowly trailed back down, running over the ledger in his lap. The page he had stopped on had a long list of locations, detailing the contents of each entry with a coded phrase. It was a list of every red bag in the city, and the locations were more of a formality, as it was only a general description. He had created it in the instance he was no longer around to make sure the rucksacks remained hidden, as was a lot of the information stored in the black book. Nick ran the pads of his paw over the page in thought, his eyes glazing over the markings he had made next to them to signified they had already retrieved it.

Humming, he discerned that there was just three bags left, none of which containing a rifle. It had been a very long, but thankfully productive, morning, and the pair of predators had gathered twenty-two rucksacks since before dawn. That did not change the fact that he still had to do something with all of the guns they had, however, and the red fox ran his claws through the fur on the underside of his chin. There was not many ways to quickly and effectively dispose of firearms in a way that didn't leave them open to be procured by undesirable mammals. Thankfully, Nick had a plan.

"Take Fog down to the Hill Street bridge," he said plainly, flipping through the pages absently.

Finnick glanced over to the fox next to him. "Why are we goin' to Savannah Central? I thought we got all of the bags out there."

"We did," Nick replied without looking up. "But there's only three red ones left, and I can get those myself tonight. We've been rolling around with all of these guns long enough, and it's about time we lightened the load." The red fox looked up from the ledger, giving the fennec next to him his usual lidded smile. "We're headed to Littleton Heights."

"The elephant neighborhood?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow as he took a right onto a road the descended the cliff towards a river. The lush overhang cleared for a brief moment, and Nick could look over the valley to see Downtown glisten in the grey light, slightly obscured in the mist and rain.

Just as fast as the view came, it was gone, replaced by the towering, impenetrable foliage of the jungle. Other vehicles became more and more common as they followed the road towards the river that bordered the Rainforest district and Savannah Central. "That's right," Nick replied, leaning forward in the seat to glance up into the sky, only for his vision to be blocked the lush canopy that grew out from the cliff face. "We're going to be dumping them in the ZPS dropbox on Herd Street."

Finnick's eyes snapped in Nick's direction, his face reflecting his bewilderment. "The giant one?" he asked with his brow furrowing. "The one that takes letters and packages that are bigger than _you_?"

"The very same," Nick replied, slumping back into his seat to look at the fennec. "Don't go straight there, though." Nick's eyes fell back onto the ledger as he continued to study it. "Take a right on Troop, head across the river, and double back north until you hit the old Rhino-stones building. There's a surveillance blindspot back in that alley behind the place that I want you to park in."

Finnick groaned as he took a left onto a larger street, joining a good amount of traffic that cut straight through the jungle towards the river. "Don't tell me we are going to walk four blocks in that _stupid_ outfit."

"Technically I'm just going to be the one walking," Nick replied, shutting the ledger loudly before tossing between the two predators onto the floorboard. "Plus, I have to push the bin filled with guns down a busy sidewalk, so I hope you don't think you're getting the short end of the stick, here."

"Do you have any idea how humiliatin' it is to sit on top of yo' head inside a sheep mask?" he asked, shooting a sharp glare towards the red fox. "I hated it at the carnival, and I can guarantee that I'm gonna hate it now."

Nick smiled broadly at the smaller predator next to him, his lidded eyes patronizing the fennec without him even having to look at Nick. "This time there's going to be more than twenty guns barely hidden instead of some cheap electronics, so I'm sure it will be more exciting this time."

"That's the _problem_ ," he replied, growling.

"Well," Nick said as he shrugged nonchalantly, turning his gaze outside his own window. "It'll be the last dangerous thing we do together… I think I'm going to try to enjoy it."

Finnick's eyes trailed around in his direction slowly watching the red fox for a moment with an unreadable expression before his eyes returned to the road. Just as the conversation had ended, the van broke out of the edge of the jungle, sailing over a plain bridge above a river that split the two districts. Their break from the dense overhang gave the pain an unobstructed view of the towering structures of glass and steel, twisting high into the grey air. The winding river led all the way up to the base of the financial district, the flowing water rippling with every crash into the bank's rocks and the relentless downpour that battered the surface.

Nick looked out his own window, away from downtown, and saw the stark divide between the districts. On one side grew the thriving vegetation, billowing out over the water from the riverbank, swaying in the wind of the storm. On the other side was rigid, deliberate structures of brick and concrete, rising angularly into the air with altering heights, tangled power lines and footpaths twisted within. Between it all, slowly flowing down towards the ocean, was a simple mass of water, being fed on one side by smaller rivers and streams of a natural variety, and jagged pipes and storm drains on the other.

In the context of the city it was not the most dramatic change in environment, but the natural border of the river found itself the most eye-catching. To Nick, it represented that fine line between civility and savagery. He had spent a lot of time in a lot of places around the sprawling city, but amongst those was this very bridge, back to the awe-inspiring downtown and lidded eyes sweeping over the split. It reminded him of the line he walked in a lot of ways, keeping just civilized enough to blend in with the world, and just wild enough to walk through civilization without its pesky ideals sticking to him.

It was a thought that instilled a certain weight to his mind as the river divide disappeared from sight, vanishing behind the angular stone and glass of Savannah Central. Nick wasn't in the middle anymore; he had left the wild behind. The fox did not look back to see the last glimpses of the jungle before the brick and concrete obstructed it, instead opting to have his eyes slowly slide closed. The assault of the falling water and the sounds of the city muffled themselves in his ears as he slowed his breathing, calming his mind as he occasionally had to do. He let the invasive thoughts and droning worries fade into obscurity, bringing about a serenity that had been poorly lacking for almost a three months now.

His greatest fear was that it wasn't real. It had persisted in the pit of his stomach, churning around every moment something more unbelievable happened, ever since the morning after he returned to town. The nightmare wasn't new, but the feeling of dread that followed was. It was a terror driven by the thought that he was still a conmammal deep down, never doing anything more than just _pretending_ he could be more. Nick found himself desiring the quiet moments of the days to reflect on the events that had transpired, and the changes they had wrought. It was a process that had given him plenty of time to think.

Thinking was dangerous in his life. Not thinking in the sense of using his wit and cunning to solves problems, or using it to craft plans or objects that he needed, but in the way that it ground him down. It halted his ability to move, and continue with his life of disrepute. That was one of the reasons he never took trains or cabs, as he did not like the silence that nagged in the back of his mind. The fox much prefered the acute attention to his surroundings, looking over his shoulder every twenty feet to make sure he wasn't followed. The silence was not like surviving. It stared in his face all the things that he had done wrong, so he shunned it.

Now it was not so simple. There had been a lot of silence over the past few days for the fox, and the nagging had eaten away his resolve. The transition from meer _surviving_ to living his day without concern for his future or obsessive control over his present had disorientated him, leaving his mind to wander in dangerous directions like regret and hate. There was so much that tormented him, both psychologically and spiritually, that he had found it difficult to reconcile himself with the mammal that had created him: himself. Now that he had all the quiet moments and silence in the world, he remembered why he avoided it so much.

The one thing that kept it all together was a singular thought: Judy. She believed in him, and he owed it to her to try. Whether or not he could make it in a world he had spent _decades_ avoiding, he did not know, but he knew he was going to try, and try as hard as he could. To him, it was unimportant the practicality of it, even the simple logistical nightmare of being homeless without any source of income, but he felt it was probably something he should put a little more thought into than nothing. It couldn't be helped, he supposed. He had a tendency to get tunnel-vision when it came to achieving certain goals.

That didn't change the fact that he had no idea what he was going to be doing with his life in just a few days time. There were the usual answers: office jockey, clerk, bartender, that sort of thing. It was by no means a glamorous thought, but he didn't exactly have many choices. Well, that wasn't _strictly_ true. He had one such prospect that the fox had repeatedly forced from his mind every time it creeped its way back in. He had already accepted it once, though hurriedly and without much consideration. It never could last long in the storm of guilt that permeated his form, believing that he didn't _deserve_ the thought.

In some ways the idea was laughable, in others downright contemptible, but it never strayed far from just below the surface of his thoughts. It hadn't truly left his mind since she handed the paper to him, but still the fact remained that there was just too much wrong with the thought. Even if he had effectively turned a new leaf, he did not believe that he could be a police officer. Not in the way that he didn't have what it takes, but in the way that he wouldn't be doing it for the right reasons. Judy had joined because it was her dream to make the world a better place. Why would he be joining?

' _Maybe it's high time you start thinking about what's important,'_ the gruff voice of Bogo echoed in his mind, disturbing the serenity. But what _was_ important? Up until a couple months ago, Nick would have said 'living forever' without skipping a beat, but now he was not so certain. Every time he tried to picture what was important in his mind, the visage of a grey bunny was the only thing to form. All the money and longevity afforded to the best of mammals simply paled in comparison to nothing but the memory of her face. Beyond that, beckoned by the silence, came the smoky colors of his mother, and the face she gave him just before he left that one night.

"We're here," Finnick said, breaking Nick's concentration. His eyes fluttered open to the view of a dreary alleyway. Trash and dumpsters lined the walls of the weathered passage, and the misshapen pavement's dented and cracked surface flooding with water as the rain fell. He glanced over to his side, seeing the fennec quietly observing him with a blank expression. "We've been here for five minutes."

Nick's ears swiveled backwards as a frown pulled on his muzzle, feeling perturbed by the lack of focus he had been displaying. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he turned from the fennec, focusing his eyes on the brick wall to his right. "Let's get to it, then," he said, sighing as lifted himself from the seat.

They made their way into the back, Nick pushing the stack of red rucksacks into a more compressed position against the wall. A loud banging sound reverberated throughout the van's compartment as Finnick pulled the green plastic bin over onto its side. Observing the fennec's progress, the red fox pulled closed a curtain wall that separated the back compartment from the front, lifting his paw up into the air to flip on an interior light. With the dull orange glow enveloping the inside of the van, Nick traded places with Finnick so he could haul the plastic bin up onto its wheels with some difficulty.

Finnick threw the bed back against the wall just as Nick returned to his side, the pair of predators making quick work of removing the wooden boards, and worked together to lift the heavy tray out of the inside compartment, sitting it slowly down on the floorboard as to not disturb anything. Taking a step back, Nick positioned himself just next to the plastic bin, catching rifles and pistols that were thrown out of the compartment by the smaller mammal, and dropping them into the green container with the barrels pointing upwards. He had already unloaded all of them, and was not ceremonious in handling the firearms.

Deftly catching the MAS-49 that the fennec tossed through the air, Nick dropped the butt of the rifle loudly into the green plastic. He made a count in his head as he peered into the container, running his emerald eyes over the amassed weaponry. Humming, the fox made his way over next to Finnick and glanced down into the compartment. The only things left were the Mosin-Nagant and a tub that had been filled with loose ammunition, clips, and magazines, shimmering in the orange light. Picking up the tub, Nick watched Finnick unzip the rifle bag that held within the old firearm before turning back to the bin.

Tipping the plastic tub over, the van was filled with the rapid clattering of hundreds of bullets as they drained into the bin, the gleaming metal catching the orange light in a kaleidoscope of reflections as they fell. Nick tossed the tub haphazardly onto the pile of red bags when it was empty, turning back to the hidden compartment. When he reached down into the space to grab the now uncovered bolt-action rifle, Finnick grabbed his wrist.

"Leave the Mosin," he said flatly.

Nick cocked an eyebrow to him. "What?" he asked with a laugh, tilting his head to the side in bewilderment.

"I said leave the damn Mosin, Nick," he replied, his brow furrowing dangerously as he swatted the larger fox's paw away. Nick reeled back, rubbing his wrist while giving Finnick a confused look, his lip curled up in distaste. The smaller predator just scoffed at him as he zipped up the rifle bag. "Do you have any idea what those clowns do to confiscated firearms? They smash them to bits, and melt all the metal into cubes." He threw a paw over his shoulder to emphasize his words. " _Cubes_ , Nick."

Nick snorted at him. "We don't have a choice, Fin," he said, still cradling his wrist carefully, despite the fact that it didn't hurt. "These things are _dangerous_ , not to mention highly _illegal_." He gestured towards the gun with exasperation. "What the hell are you going to do with a bolt action rifle you can barely pick up, let alone use?"

The fennec snarled back as he climbed out of the hidden compartment. "I don't want to use it, fool. I just don't want to put in the paws of those hacks that'll sooner melt it down to make a dumbass peace sign than appreciate the history."

Shaking his head, Nick stared down at the smaller mammal with a blank expression. "Would you rather we donated the thing to a museum?" he asked sarcastically. "I'm sure they already have plenty of guns, and they'd just give it right back to the cops if we walked in there with it."

Finnick pinched the bridge of his long snout. "Look…" he said carefully, drawing his words out. "I'm goin' along with this stupid idea, okay? You and I both know just how much _money_ we could get for all of these things if we flipped 'em, but whatever." He waved his paw through the air dismissively, looking back down at the rifle bag. "That's neither here nor there." Pointing a clawed finger at the case, he turned back to glare at Nick. "But I am not going to watch you throw that thing into a post office box to be carried away to its fate of becomin' some hypocrite's _paperweight_."

Narrowing his emerald eyes at the fennec, Nick put his paws on his hips to match his glare. "And what's your great idea to do with it, Finnick?" he asked. "Last time I checked, you can't just go around carrying a rifle in your van everywhere you go."

Finnick waved his paw through the air. "I've got a buyer-"

"No." Nick cut him off, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back into his heals.

Growling, the fennec's ears splayed back on his head, and his brown eye narrowed at his tall friend. "Hear me out, will you?" he practically barked, receiving no reaction from the red fox. "He lives outside the city. Some bigshot collector, and I happen to know he's got himself a pretty big collection of antique guns. I've sold a couple to him already."

"What does he do with them?" Nick inquired, his expression unchanged.

"Puts them in glass cases and dusts them every week, I'd imagine," Finnick replied dryly. "It takes the gun out of the loop, and this guy's security is a damn fever dream to every bank in the city. It won't be going anywhere."

Nick hummed, but his arms dropped limply to his sides. "What do you know about this mammal?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. "What _is_ he, anyway?"

Finnick clicked his tongue off his sharp teeth, turning from him to grab onto the tray of junk. "He's an elk," he answered. "Obsessive, old, rich, and has a thing for history. He's not so concerned about the legality of certain deals, either, seein' as how the whole collection is illegal." He beckoned for the larger fox to grab onto the other end of the tray. "I'm sure I can get a pretty good price for it."

The van descended into the monochromatic noise of the rain pelting the metal exterior, the two foxes glaring at each other from across the compartment. What dragged on afterwards was a battle of will that could not be seen or heard, existing solely in the air between the two. It took some moments for the red fox to sigh loudly, deflating as he reached downward to pick up the metal tray with the fennec. "Fine," he grumbled, lifting it into the air and sitting it over top the lone rifle remaining. "Only if you think it'll stay buried." With that, the Mosin was gone from his sight, and likely from his life, forever.

Snorting as he replaced the wooden planks that stretched the underside of the bed, Finnick let out a few chuckles. "He's a hoarder," the fennec replied. "The damn weirdo even keeps all of his antlers that fell off."

Nick shot out a quick breath from his snout, turning from him to push aside a rucksack. Underneath it was a wireframe facade that took on the appearance of a pile of mailbags. It was built on a rectangular frame, the exact shape of the large plastic bin's interior. Picking it up, the red fox flipped it over in his paws, glancing down into the framework on the inside of the facade. The wireframe was made of numerous circular pieces of thin metal, all arranged in a way to simulate the shape of a full bag, and in between the wire and the burlap was a cotton padding to disguise the frame.

Slowly making his way back over to the green bin, Nick manipulated the rifle barrels in a way that he could lower the facade down on top of it, completely camouflaging the bin of guns into a bin of burlap mailbags. He took a step back to appreciate the work, marveling again at how convincing it was. The setup was originally made to hide Finnick down in the compartment as Nick disguised himself as a mail-mammal. It had served its use on more than one occasion, but today it would be its last. They would have to leave the facade with the guns, as it would look suspicious to dump the mail without actually dumping the mail.

"Here," Finnick's deep voice called over, and Nick turned only for his face to be enveloped in another one of his products of subterfuge. Pulling away the wooly suit, Nick looked down at the full-body disguise. It was made to look like the torso and legs of a sheep, missing its head. He had tailored the piece to work in tandem with a rather poofy mask he had made for Finnick to sit inside to complete the full sheep costume. Sparing little time, Nick slipped into the suit, leaving the puffed out flannel shirt undone so his head was not trapped in a billowing collection of wool that stuck out from the collar.

Nick slithered his paws into the hoofed gloves, patting down the collections of wool that spread out from the sleeves. "Where's the brace?" he asked, turning to see Finnick wrapping an elastic sweatband over his long ears to keep them down. He did not look up at the red fox when he pointed down by the foot of the bed. The brace was a Triball chest padding for a mammal of Nick's size with the shoulders cut off, and he gingerly picked it up to inspect the jerry rigged cylindrical frame that stretched up above where the red fox's head would be. Attached at the top was a tiny, rotating stool top with a backrest.

Lifting the pads over his head, he forced it past the tangled wool and onto his shoulders, weaving his hoofed paws down into the suit to retrieve straps from the back side that went underneath the shoulders. After he had properly secured the padding, Nick fastened the final buttons in the front, ostensibly turning the fox into a sheep whose head had been replaced by a stool seat. Nick could barely see out of the mess of wool in front of his muzzle, and combed it aside somewhat to the point that his black nose stuck out from the wool just above the collar. Reaching into the suit's pocket, Nick stuck a star medallion onto the end of his snout, making it look like a necklace.

The red fox turned towards the fennec to see him glowering at him with lidded eyes. Nick's hooves fell from their place on his hips and dropped to his sides. "Not convincing?" he asked in a muffled voice.

Finnick shook his head slowly as he stared at the decapitated sheep. "It doesn't stop lookin' like the dumbest thing I have ever seen," he mumbled more to himself than anyone else.

Nick hummed, walking towards the fennec. Surprise overtook the smaller predator's eyes and he reeled back, but he wasn't quick enough to stop Nick from picking him up swiftly. "Up you go," he chirped, dropping the fennec down onto the stool seat on the top of his head. Looking around the compartment, Nick saw the sheep mask, complete with billowing wool and a trucker's hat, sitting flatly on the bed.

He was in the process of bending over to retrieve it when Finnick yelled. "Eh!" he screamed. "How many times do I have to tell yo' dumb ass not to bend over while I'm up here?" Nick could feel him scramble in place as he slowly straightened out. When the fennec was situated, he flipped off the overhead light, descending the van back into darkness.

"Sorry," he replied, chuckling. "I always forget about that." Bending his knees, Nick retrieved the sheep mask and lifted it up over his head. Guided by Finnick's paws, he lowered it down into place. With that, the disguise was completely. The pair of predators had taken on the persona of a sheep, and they were now, in a factual sense, two foxes in sheep's clothing. Nick stepped up the the back door, pausing for a moment. He took a deep breath, letting the air completely fill up his lungs before he exhaled, deflating by some extent. "It's show time," he said into the noisy van, the only reply from the fennec being a low growl.

The back of the van popped open at Nick's behest, and the faux sheep hopped down onto the cracked pavement. Turning around, he opened the other door and extended the ramp from the bottom of the van, securing it in place so they could roll the green plastic bin down with no problems. "Anything?" he asked quietly as he pushed the bin of guns barely hidden below a mailbag facade down the ribbed ramp, the wheels rattling with the faint tinkling of cartridges inside.

Finnick swiveled in his seat, having enough room when he made himself as small as possible to rotate completely around the costume. The mask had been made with peepholes looking out in every direction, with the back of the baseball cap consisting of a mesh that the fennec could easily see through. "Nobody in the alley," he replied.

"Just keep an eye out," Nick said, leaving the container filled with guns where it was before retracting the ramp and shutting the van's doors. Checking to make sure it was locked, the fake sheep returned to the bin and started pushing it down the alleyway towards the street.

"The hell do you think I'm up here for?" he asked quietly.

They made their way through the rainy alleyway slowly, Finnick swiveling every few seconds to glimpse out a different direction. The fact that the pavement wasn't even and the water battered the faux sheep relentlessly made the task grueling to say the least, and the puffy padding of the disguise made movement more than a little difficult. You couldn't put a price, however, on walking around without looking like a fox. The suit had more than made up for the weeks he had spent grueling over every detail, piecing together every bit of knowledge he had on engineering, tailoring, sculpting, and design. That never made it any better to use, though.

Rounding the corner onto the even sidewalk, the faux sheep made its way into the populated city street, perfectly camouflaging into the crowd of mammals. It was lucky for them that the mailbag bin was so bizarre that none of the mammals that looked at them spare the sheep a second glance, only the green bin. They had a ways to go yet, and every step they took risked the possibility of someone hearing the guns or catching onto the fact that the sheep had the scent of two foxes. Still, they remained calm, collected. They had become the sheep, and strode down the sidewalk believing that there was nothing wrong with the picture.

Gradually, the buildings grew in magnitude, the doorways and windows increasing in size the closer they got to Littleton Heights. The more the buildings around them accommodated the largest mammals in the city, the more anxious they became. Elephants and their like were very good at smelling, and that was one thing you couldn't disguise. The crowded streets and sidewalks made it easier for them to pass through without anyone thinking it was odd, but that did not sate their bustling nerves.

"I've got a guy that keeps looking at us from across the street. Seven o'clock.," Finnick hissed, tapping his foot across the red fox's head.

"Is he tailing us?" Nick replied in a hush whisper, worry growing in his voice.

Finnick shook his head. "Nah," he said. "He's moving on. There's a vixen at yo' nine that I _wish_ was lookin' this way, though."

Nick growled quietly. "Take this a little more serious, would you?"

"I'm just trying to _enjoy_ it," he replied. "It was yo' dumb ass idea to do this mess."

Nick shushed him, concentrating on the task ahead. A little ways down the road sat a post office that looked completely normal, the only difference being it was three or four times the size of the ones around the rest of the city. Sitting outside of it was a blue mail dropbox, arced at the top with a hinged door. Similar to the building it was outside of, it was enormous, almost five times as big as a normal one. It was so large that stuck to the side was a ramp that climbed up the blue metal for mammals of a smaller size, a hinged door that was actually usable to the pair of foxes at the top.

Finnick tapped him on the top of the head when the road was safe to cross, and Nick quickly made his way across the busy street, the wool of the disguise bounding with every step. Cameras were everywhere in this side of town, and it was no doubt that they had their entire trip from the alleyway to the post office recorded. He was hoping that the costume was good enough that the ZPD would be looking for a sheep instead of anything else. If they got it in their minds it was a fake suit, then it was technically possible that the cold case could come back to bite him years down the line. Best have them think it was a ghost sheep and toss the case away.

Finally reaching the base of the blue dropbox, Nick, with some difficulty, pushed the plastic bin up the ramp. It took him several moments to reach the top, and when he did he had to pause, through one of his hoofed paws up onto the side of the dropbox, and catch his breath. Without the ability to glance over his shoulder, the fox could only see the dark blue metal in front of him. He trusted the fact that Finnick would tell him about anything he needed to know about, but that did little for his building anxiety. This was the trickiest part, and they ran very real risk of being caught a stone's throw away from the crime scene.

"Anybody?" he asked quietly.

"Wait..." Finnick replied, his voice trailing off. Time dragged on for awhile as they remained where they were, Nick positioning himself to look out of breath against the dropbox. "Now!"

Nick did not move slowly, ripping open the vertical hatch of on the metal's face and hooking it in place so it didn't fall on them. Positioning himself behind the plastic bin, he heaved the load of guns forward, catching onto the lip of metal on the ramp and tipping over. With one final push, the edge of the plastic bin reached over the opening so that the contents fell directly through, without anyone seeing. The first thing to topple down into the pile of mail was the facade, smashing down onto a collection of letters larger than Nick. It bounced across the bottom until it loudly banged against the side, halting its movement.

The next thing to go was everything else. The noise that permeated from the the inside of the dropbox thundered as metal struck metal and hundreds of bullets spilled out over the interior. It was so loud that the fox winced to keep his ears shut, despite the insulating wool padding. They rattled and banged against each other much longer than Nick wanted them to, but they finally settled down, the blue metal exterior still slightly trembling from the impact. Pulling the plastic bin back, he glanced down into the interior. Inside was a single .45 ACP cartridge, rolling around the interior. Bending at his knees, he quickly grasped it and flung it into the open hatch.

He waited for a moment, waiting for _anything_ to happen, but nothing did. All that followed the job was the quiet patter of the streets and the sounds of car's engines, the sounds of the city. Tilting slightly, Nick peered down into the space. A twisted mass of weapons and spilled bullets, sat atop a completely innocent stack of letters and packages. It was a strange sight to see, and if anything it reaffirmed how unbelievable it all was. It made him reevaluate what he believed possible in a lot of ways, but above all it made him think of the mammals he was doing this for. It was for all the mammals he had wronged… and Judy.

"It's not too late to go down there and at least grab the PPK and MAS-49," Finnick whispered lowly from atop his head.

A smile creeped its way across Nick's muzzle. "Oh, it was too late a while ago now."

They settled into silence staring at the guns at the bottom of the dropbox, mostly shrouded in darkness, though the glimmering metal reflected the grey light from the small opening. He was doing it to make it up to all those mammals he wronged… _'Maybe it's high time you start thinking about what's important.'_ The words echoed in his mind as he blankly stared at the heap of wood and metal. _'You think there cannot be a fox police officer?'_ The memories continued, making his brow furrow... _'You know, I think you'd actually make a pretty good cop.'_ Her words struck through his mind like a lightning bolt, making his fur stand on end.

"Hey Finnick?" he asked cautiously.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think I could be a cop?"

The pair were silent for a long moment, each of them in finding ways to deal with the surprise that followed those words. After a long moment, Finnick sighed heavily. " _Damn_ ," he said, shaking his head. "You got it so bad it's hurtin' _me_."

Nick laughed at that. He was doing this because he was trying to make up for all the wrong he had done in his life, to do something about all that negativity that he had created. Others could tell him he was being ridiculous, or he wasn't thinking straight, but he didn't care. That's what he was doing, and that's what he was going to continue doing, from now on. There was nothing stopping him now, and he could finally do some _good_ for this world, instead of what he had been doing for so long. In its simplest form, that's what it was: doing good. The feeling that Nick believed set into motion Judy's struggle to become a police officer was now somehow more intimate than he could have ever imagined.

Nick Wilde wanted to make the world a better place.


	19. I won't ever let you forget it

_7:51 pm, September 17th_

* * *

A thunderous explosion of noise filled the weathered shipping container, rising far above what the gentle patter of the rain could ever hope to achieve, as a mountain of piled junk lost what little stability it had left. Ricocheting off each other as they fell, the random assortment of items tumbled away from the ribbed metal wall, falling into the open walkway that had been created through the middle of the assortment. All manor of things, from bicycle frames to cardboard boxes filled with unopened playing cards, clattered against the planked floor and off smaller piles of junk that rested next to it.

One of the thumps that joined the cacophony of sound was made by a red fox diving out of the way of the debris, landing harshly onto the ground and sliding under a red wagon for protection. He held his eyes shut and held his paws over his head, flattening his ears, as he waited for the avalanche to subside. The noise that was generated by the bounty of junk landing in the wagon's basket slowly subsided until the final ticking of a marble broke the stillness, having fallen off the capsized mountain and bouncing several times before rolling across the floor. Nick slowly opened his eyes to the green marble only inches from his snout.

Groaning, the red fox thumped his head against the ground loudly, slumping against the floor in defeat. "God _damnit_ …" he grumbled. After a long moment of remaining completely still, Nick let out a long breath through his snout. He crawled out from under the wagon slowly, having very little room to maneuver thanks to the junk piled around at his hind paws. Running his eyes over the mess of boxes, twisted metal, and random paraphernalia, he watched an accordion finally lose its perch atop a fully stocked vending machine, falling with a dreadful noise from the instrument before slamming down onto the hardwood.

Nick shook his head slowly, even his blank expression feeling too expressive for the resignation he felt. Sighing, he stepped over the junk towards the goal that had caused the avalanche in the first place, a cast iron, kettle-style charcoal grill. The condition it was in was indicative of its age, rather than the care that had been put into it. While it had started rusting on a number of locations, none of the iron had been eaten by ash, despite the obvious hallmarks of it being used numerous times. Coming to a stop in front of the grill, Nick no longer had to worry about causing an avalanche and simply lifted it up into the air.

He turned to see Finnick sitting at the base of a mountain of dark blue rucksacks near the front of the container, staring at him vacantly. While the back of the shipping container remained mostly undisturbed since the last time he had been there, the front had changed dramatically. It had been filled with blue and red bags, the majority of which sat completely emptied and folded neatly against the wall. The ones that hadn't been emptied, all a dark blue color, sat right in front of the fennec who had a clipboard in paw, cataloguing the contents. The smaller mammal shook his head slowly at the red fox before returning to his clipboard.

Nick stepped over the fallen junk into the more open middle of the container, strolling past all of the items that had previously filled the rucksacks. They had been ordered into stacks of their own kind: a mountain of canned foods of many different varieties that stretched taller than the red fox, a haphazard pile of can openers, stacks of first aid kits, bagged clothes, water canteens, flares, binoculars, walkie talkies, lighters, flashlights, blankets (both packets of the emergency space variety and normal cotton ones), paracord, entrenching tools, pawtools, sewing kits - the list went on a lot longer than he would like to admit.

It represented decades of adding a few bags to the collection a year, quickly spiraling out of control to the point that he had developed a network of caches that would be more than he could use in several lifetimes. The philosophy behind them was simple enough, which was never being just a short stroll away from whatever he found himself needing, but seeing it all in the same place made him think he had slipped into some strange insanity over the years. Nick had to wonder just how much money he had ended up spending on all of it over the years, and more to the point, what the hell he was going to do with it.

"I think it's time you started thinkin' 'bout throwin' some of this shit away, Nick," Finnick mumbled as the red fox passed him, heading towards the closed container doors. The space had been sealed after they had unloaded the fennec's van, blocking the view of any mammals with prying eyes. The only source of light in the metal shipping container was a portable LED lantern, the relatively small amount of light being all the nocturnal predators needed to see sufficiently. "Maybe then you won't run the risk of being crushed by garbage." Finnick retrieved another can from the open bag in front of him before jotting it down on his clipboard.

Nick snorted at him as he walked past, setting the grill down just before the cargo doors. "It's not garbage," he defended as he heaved against the metal. The door's hinges complained at the movement, whining with a shrill scraping sound that cut through the rain. The night air and rain hit Nick as he continued to push it open, the darkness of the city beyond only broken up here and there by blinking streetlamps and the distant twinkling of the towering downtown skyline. "This stuff has played an essential role in a lot of our hustles, Fin," Nick said, turning back to the inside of the container and leaving the door open. "I couldn't just throw it away."

"That's called _hoardin'_ , dumbass," Finnick replied flatly. He picked up a can opener from the bag and turned it around in his paw, studying it. "There is no reason at all that a mammal should have-" Cutting himself off, his eyes trailed down to his clipboard. He scoffed loudly and turned the paper's face towards the other fox, rapping his paw across the spreadsheet with a scowl. "Fifty-seven goddamn can openers."

Humming as he positioned the grill right on the edge of the container, only a few inches from the falling water, Nick glanced over to the fennec. "Please," he drawled out, rolling his eyes. "I only kept the stuff I thought we could use again. I got rid of the food truck, the drum set, and the crocodile submersible, after all."

"A rubber suit that smelled like death and weighed 'bout as much as a rhino is hardly a submersible," Finnick grumbled back, tossing the can opener so that it arced through the air until clattering into the pile of identical tools. He turned back to his clipboard as he wrote down the latest count. "And the only reason you got rid of the drumset was because it was _hot_. Why you thought it was a good idea to lift them right off the stage in the middle of a no-pred bar, I will never know."

Nick snorted loudly, his easy smile diminishing at the memory. "Anybody who names their band _'The Foxcatchers'_ deserves to be taken down a couple pegs," he replied with an edge in his tone. Smoothing down his tie, he straightened out to regain some of his composure. "Besides, the look on their faces when they saw the paintjob I gave it was good enough for me." Nick lifted the lid of the grill, seeing a bag of charcoal, lighter fluid, matches, tongs, and a metal baking pan all sitting neatly on the grate. Retrieving them from the inside of the grill, he arranged the items on the floor below it.

"Fo' a fox that supposedly wants to live forever, you sure do have a knack fo' doin' stupid shit that could get you killed," he said plainly, picking up a first aid kit from the bag. "It's a wonder how you've even lived this long."

Glancing over to the fennec with a broad, lidded smile, Nick merely chuckled at his friend. "It's called being smarter than the average bear, Boo-Boo," he replied jovially, his rows of sharp teeth shining through his smile.

Finnick's eyes snapped over to Nick as he gave him a dangerous glare. "Say that to me again, and I'll bite yo' damn face off," he said with a low growl, baring his teeth.

"Oof," Nick replied, raising his paws in mock surrender. He chuckled to himself as he returned to the task at paw, retrieving the bag of charcoal from the ground. When he was successful in removing the top grate with one paw, he spilled a generous amount of black chunks into the interior of the grill, letting them settle near at the bottom in a lopsided pile. "You're just grumpy because you haven't eaten much," he quipped to the smaller predator. Nick bent down to retrieve the light fluid, twisting the cap off and squeezing a stream of the flammable liquid out over the charcoal.

Nick hummed to himself as he worked, lowering the grate back over the grill gingerly. After the preparations had been mostly completely, the red fox deftly hooked the edge of the baking pan that sat on the ground with his hind paw, stomping on the lip so that it would spin up into the air. He caught it with a practiced ease and haphazardly dropped it down onto the black metal grate with a loud clatter. "Tell you want," he said quietly, a lazy smile still present on his face. "Do you want your fake identities medium rare or well done?" Finnick turned to look at the red fox just as he dropped a lit match into the grill, a fireball following its landing.

The orange light of the fire enveloped the inside of the container, and the crackling rose slowly above the sound of the rain assaulting the metal exterior and pattering across the ground. "None of yo' faces have been well done," Finnick replied dryly, watching Nick retrieve a small cardboard box from the floor.

A toothy smile crept its way across Nick's muzzle. "Now, Finnick," he said slowly, wagging a finger over at the smaller predator. "That is no way to write an obituary for all of these handsome mammals." He returned his eyes to the fire, shooting another squeeze of lighter fluid into the grill that prompted more glowing ribbons to stretch high into the air. The smoke rose to the ceiling of the container, billowing out of the open doorway and into the night air. Nick sat the bottle of lighter fluid down on the ground and stuck his paw into the paper bag. "It just wouldn't be respectful to send them to the afterlife without a proper cremation."

Finnick snorted loudly, turning his eyes back to his clipboard as he wrote something down. "I've already been to one of yo' funerals," he said with no amount of humor in his voice. "That's all I'm obligated to be respectful at, and you've already wasted it on a fake."

Nick hummed thoughtfully, pulling out a small plastic card from the bag to study. "You seem to have me confused with someone else," he replied, his piercing emerald eyes running over the portrait on the card. After a moment, he traded the sight of the plastic in his hand for the Finnick that continued his work of cataloguing the contents of the bag in front of him. "All I recall is attending the funeral of my late friend Reynard Sharp," he droned one, giving the fennec a lopsided smirk. "May he rest in peace."

"Not likely," Finnick deadpanned, tossing another bag of clothes back towards their pile.

The crackling fire and the rain was all that could be heard between the two when Nick dropped the fake ID back into the bag, placing it down onto the side tray built into the grill. He stared at the fire as his paw snaked back into his pocket, pulling out a nylon wallet into the night air. He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he slapped the wallet onto his open paw repeatedly, watching the ribbons of flame kiss the bottom of the baking pan. Nick's eyes trailed own to the object in his paws as he opened it slowly, peering at the fake life built within. It was the wallet of Richard Pierce, a lovable, dopey dad that lost his wife.

The first thing he saw was the grocery store punch cards, all of them with enough holes in them to make you think he was only a couple away from some measly discount. It was a strange sight to see the picture of the fake family: Nick in one of his trademark outfits, Finnick in his little elephant costume, and some random vixen with a knowing smile on her lips. He didn't even know her name, yet she was standing next to the red fox, his arm around her waist believably. He slipped the picture out slowly, sticking it into his back pocket as he continued to study the contents of the wallet.

"Say goodbye to daddy, Fin," Nick said with a smile, glancing over to the fennec and holding up the wallet, Richard Pierce's license in full view. Finnick turned to look at the object in the todd's paw, his eyes moving over to Nick when he realized what he had. "He's going to be the first to go." He looked back down into the fire, his smile relaxing away from his face as he held out the wallet for his own viewing. The visage of the fake mammal stared back at him, a face more than a little familiar with a name that didn't belong. The lidded smile that confronted him made his fur stand on end. "Goodbye, Richard Pierce," he whispered, loosening his grasp so the wallet fell into the waiting baking pan.

Immediately, the nylon caught. Slowly at first, though the fireball that ensued from Nick spraying another squeeze of lighter fluid into the mix insured it's demise. The heat licked the fox's face as the flames engulfed the wallet, melting the entire thing into a mass of goo. The warmth of the thick ribbons reached its way between his fur, his skin bristling from the first contact of air that wasn't cold and filled with falling water that day. The smell was horrible, the burning nylon irritating his sensitive nose, but he did not show any sign of being affected. Nick just stared into the fire.

Picking up the brown paper bag, he fished his paw into the mix. When he brought the first plastic card out into the light, he squinted his fire-adjusted eyes to read the name. Snorting, the red fox returned to looking into flames. "Goodbye, Crevan Mawe," Nick said, flicking the ID into the tray with the burning nylon. He brought out another to read. "Goodbye, Victor Gibbs." It joined the last. Again, his paw returned to the paper bag, bringing another license forth. "Goodbye, Thomas Locke. Goodbye, Lincoln Hobbes. Goodbye, Balgair Fremont." Each one landed into the amassing pile of fake licenses, the plastic warping and pictures blotching with black in the heat.

The next ID to come into Nick's vision made him pause. The smarmy grin that stared back at him was one he hardly recognized. Todd Shaw was not a mammal he enjoyed; he was a liar, a cheat, a swindler, and a crook. It made the memory all that more unsettling to know that Todd Shaw, no matter how much the red fox had gotten into his character, didn't exist. The real crook reflected back at him through the plastic sheen, the haggard image a fox filled with regret. The day had drained him in ways unimaginable, seeing for the first time the fruits of all his labor: nothing but a couple dirty bags and wasted things others so desperately needed.

Nick held the ID over the pan, heat warping his very vision around the bowl of fire. His expression had hardened as he looked at the little plastic card in his paws. "Goodbye, Todd Shaw," he whispered in shuddersome tone, his piercing emerald eyes watching the simple card tumble from his clawed grasp and into the reach of the ribbons of flame. Nick grabbed the bottom of the paper bag. "For the rest of you…" he said, his voice trailing off as he dumped the contents over the pan, a deluge of licenses plunging into the flame loudly. "It's just going to be a plain old 'bye'."

Finnick scoffed at him from across the room, making Nick's ears swivel towards the noise. "Some display of respect," he grumbled, turning away just as Nick look at him.

Studying the fennec for a moment, Nick returned his eyes to the fire and the pile of licenses slowly melting away. "Not enough room in the paper," he replied dryly.

The seconds dragged on into minutes in the interior of the shipping container, each fox absorbed only physically in their activity. After a what felt like a long time, Finnick finally threw down the clipboard in exasperation, leaning back into his arms as he stared up at the smoky ceiling in thought. His eyes slowly fell onto the red fox observing him. "All of this is a lot of work to burn overnight, Nick," he commented delicately.

Nick kept his gaze fixed to the fennec for a long moment, not responding to his words. Finally, his eyes trailed back to the now indistinguishable mass melting in the pan. "It all burns eventually," he whispered back. "Just look at where we're standing." They settled into silence for awhile after that, both absorbed in their thoughts. It was some time before Nick crumpled up the paper bag and threw it into the fire. Picking up the metal lid that had been discarded next to the grill, he looked over at Finnick. "It's about time for a break, don't you think?" he asked, lowering the domed lid onto the grill and twisting open a porous vent built into the side.

Smoke billowed out of the small opening as Nick pushed open the other cargo door that had remained closed up until this point. With the shipping container now fully open to the elements, the red fox turned to retrieve a couple of lawn chairs from the back, one of them being very familiar, as he had finally swiped it from the underside of his bridge. He reasoned it was in all practical purposed his, anyway, so he had finally taken the chair with him back to his lot, basket and bucked included. He unfolded them to sit side by side facing out into the rain next to the grill, and turned back to wiggle his eyebrows at the fennec staring at him.

Sighing, Finnick pulled himself up sluggishly and made his way to to the pair of lawn chairs. With a contented breath, he slumped into the chair on the far side of the grill, ears limply laying against the chair's back as his eyes closed. Nick, on the other hand, made his way back into the container, searching for a cardboard box. Finally spotting his target, he pulled two mason jars filled with a clear liquid out of their case. He made his way slowly back to the front of the container, swishing his tail back and forth with a lazy smile. When he landed heavily in his green, weathered lawn chair, he held out one of the jars and tapped the fennec on his shoulder.

Finnick's eyes fluttered open, and his tired vision shot over to the offending paw. Seeing the jar in his dark red appendage, the fennec's mood immediately brightened, ears perked and snatching the jar from his grasp. "Now this is a payment I can get behind," he barked happily, a large toothy smile splitting his face. He held the jar up in his paws, gazing into the clear liquid before turning his brown eyes to Nick. "It's a goddamn _crime_ what you do to this stuff, Nick." Tapping one of his sharp claws against the glass, his ears relaxed back into their normal position. "It deserves to be gettin' mammals shitfaced, not sittin' in cardboard boxes scattered 'round the city."

Nick shrugged nonchalantly, lounging back into his lawn chair and kicking up on of hind paws over his knee. "I won't deny that," he replied lazily, twisting open his own mason jar and taking a long drag of the scent. "I've just never had a reason to drink it." The red fox gazed down into the liquid, the phantom of a smile on his lips.

"Well, ya do now," Finnick said with his deep voice sounding deeper the higher he raised it. "And that's what counts." He twisted the metal lid off of his glass before holding it, with both paws, over the space inbetween the two chairs. "To havin' a reason to drink!" he toasted.

Nick cracked up, a snort of amusement escaping his maw as he lowered the jar from where it had stopped, directly in front of his snout. They clacked their glasses against each other loudly, pulling them back to return them to their waiting muzzles. Nick paused for a moment, watching the small fennec tip the oversized mason jar over in his paws and take a long gulp of the fiery liquid. Another amused breath shot out from his muzzle split by a toothy smile, turning away from his friend with a slow shake of his head to peer out into the dark storm.

The familiar sensation of the tingling in his gums and tongue filled his mouth as he cradled the liquid, savoring the flavor. When the moonshine hit the back of his throat as he gulped it down, the burn caused another exaggerated breath to escape his muzzle. He stared down into the jar for a moment, his smile diminishing as the seconds dragged on, and the thoughts of the day rushed back to him. A long sigh found itself on the tips of his lungs, and he felt the breath slowly escape his body through his snout. Nick slumped lazily back into the lawn chair, staring out into the rain.

He felt his tail limp behind him and his ears struggle to remain perked on his head. He was thoroughly exhausted, and not just physically. The week he endured had taken everything he had, in almost every interpretable way imaginable. Nick felt emotionally drained, physically spent, and was now officially out of a job, not to mention the dismantlement of his city-wide safety net. He felt another sigh fight for its birth, and frankly didn't care to resist. "It has been a _long_ couple days…" Nick droned, bringing up the jar to take another swig.

Finnick snorted next to him. "Tell me 'bout it."

A ghost of a smile returned to his lips as he glanced over to his small friend. "It's a long story," he chirped drowsily. "Are you sure you want to hear it?"

He returned his gaze with a look of incredulity, his lidded eyes betraying his unamused irritation. "It's rhetorical, fool," he replied. "No, I don't want to hear it."

Nick hummed happily, his own lidded eyes shifting back straight ahead. They sat in relative silence for a long time, taking small sips of their respective jars of moonshine and lazily watching the rain patter against the overgrown field of the lot. They had driven Finnick's van into the empty space and closed the gate behind them, and it sat idly a couple yards away from the shipping container, shrouded in darkness as the falling water washed over it. The part of the city they were in was nowhere near as rundown as the rest of the southwest side, but the unkempt lot did not convey that very well.

The red fox was watching the rain, but he was not really perceiving it. In truth, his mind had been elsewhere for a while now, and the dull buzzing that was developing in the back of his mind did little to focus his wandering mind. Nick's ears perked to the crackling fire on the inside of the grill, and his eyes trailed their way to the grey smoke billowing out of the top vent. Reaching his left arm out towards the cast iron sluggishly, he halted his paw just before it touched the metal, spread out flat. The heat that radiated off the kettle-style grill wrapped itself around the pads of his palm and fingers, the gentle warmth digging its way through the fur of his paw in search of the skin below.

"What's the count up to?" Nick asked absently, wiggling his fingers around just before the scorching metal.

Finnick cocked an eyebrow at him as he turned, having paused his sip from the mason jar just in front of his muzzle. "Fo' what?"

"The cash," he replied.

Humming, the fennec completed his sip, sighing gratefully when he pulled the jar away. "It's a little under twenty grand, I think," he said in a thoughtful tone, glancing behind the pair back towards the pile of rucksacks. "It's hard to tell without a counter."

Nick whistled out into the rain, eyebrows raising a good distance on his forehead. He nodded his head slowly, bringing his own jar up to his pursed lips as he thought. Just before he took a drink, he paused, tilting the glass to the side with an amused frown. "Twenty grand," he repeated, chuckling silently before taking another swig.

"It's a good chunk of change, that's fo' sure," Finnick replied, his gaze still fixed on the clutter behind them. He drew one of his claws around the lip of his glass, licking it when he had collected the small amount of moonshine left behind from his gulp. "It don't last as long in the straight and narrow, though." Glancing back over to the red fox observing him through the corner of his eye, the fennec cocked his head back towards the piles of stuff. "You might be able to live off this shit for awhile," he commented.

Snorting loudly, Nick looked back into the rain and took another sip. "No thanks," he replied bitingly, his lip curling in distaste as he pulled his drink back down into his lap. "I think I'm all out of taste for canned beans and bugs." Closing and opening the paw that he held out next to the active grill, he finally pulled it back from the warmth and scratched the cream colored fur of his neck. "We should drive most of this stuff down to the food bank tomorrow. See if they can't use sixty can openers and about two hundred cans." He tilted his head to the side with a cocked eyebrow to look at the piles. "Maybe they'll be able to use some of this other junk, too."

Finnick scratched the side of his muzzle before batting at an itch in one of his giant ears. "If we're donatin'," he said distantly. "We should just head over to Cyprus Apartments and hand shit out."

Nick hummed. "For all the blankets and food, maybe," he replied, propping up his head with an elbow he supported on one of the green armrests. "For all of these sewing kits, shovels, and stuff like that we'll take them to Goodwillet or something." Nick's eyebrow rose despite his scrunched up face thanks to his supporting paw, and he lazily glanced back into the fray of junk. His emerald eyes trailed over the piles of stuff apathetically, and he quietly ran his tongue over the tips of his teeth in thought. "Especially the bags. I'm not keeping almost seventy of them for the hell of it."

Yawning, the smaller fennec displayed his assortment of sharp teeth openly, his jaw opening to its full reach. The tongue of the small predator curled upwards at the apex of his yawn before he snapped it shut, running one of his paws over the top of his head to smooth down his ears. "I'll comb 'em for stray cartridges, then," he replied, bringing the jar back up to his lips with both paws. It paused just before it connected with his muzzle, and the fennec level it out so it wouldn't spill as he laughed. "Wouldn't _that_ be the thing to bust us?" he asked, shaking his head before following through with his drink.

A lopsided smile crept it way over the red fox as he stared out into the darkness, teeth only visible on one side of his muzzle. _That_ would _be the thing to get me, wouldn't it?_ he thought dryly, taking another sip, though much smaller than the fennec's. _After all this time I'd get myself locked up for a stray cartridge in a bag I was giving away_. Nick sighed loudly, reclining further into the lawn chair with his eyes still fixed on the storm of falling water just in front of them. His head felt a lot heavier now, and he let it quietly thump back against the chair, his muscles no longer finding it especially important that they function.

They were quiet for a long time, listening to the crackling fire and the rain, both finding greater interest in their own thoughts than any inconsequential small talk that could pass between them. Nick found himself absorbed in the fact that he was a stone's throw away from the finish line, and _still_ had not come up with a game plan. In less than a day, he'll have run out of things to do completely, and the ensuing void of tasks gave him pause. It was certainly a bridge to cross when he got to it, seeing as how 'having nothing to do' wasn't exactly a pressing obstacle, but it was daunting all the same.

He supposed the first order of business would have to be finding a legitimate place to lie his head, as he had a sneaking suspicious that normal mammals didn't sleep under bridges and in the basements of abandoned buildings. It was tempting to find a place that accepted cash, no questions asked, but he knew that would create a paper trail of money he wasn't supposed to have. He could always take up a Sole Proprietorship, deposit a little at a time, and claim that it was sales revenue for some fictitious business idea, but that didn't really sound right anymore. He was pretty sure that counted as money laundering, and that wasn't going to fly.

Whatever the case, it was a question for another time, or, more specifically, the evening of the next day. He still had a lot on his list of things he needed to do, and it wasn't like he was going to make some grand breakthrough sitting in a lawn chair with moonshine in his paw. Nick glanced down at the jar resting its weight on his lap and slowly raised at eyebrow to it. He hadn't exactly hammered through it, but a pretty good amount, for a mammal his size, anyway, was missing. Resigning himself to being done, he retrieved the thin metal lid from the wooden floor and twisted it back into place.

Nick weaved his paws together behind his head after setting the jar gently down onto the floor, lounging further into the chair. "You know," he said quietly, his eyes never leaving the storm that continued to rage just outside the shipping container. "It's pretty much over now."

Finnick turned to give him a quizzical glance. "What do you mean?"

Raising his brow up onto his forehead, the red fox returned the fennec's gaze. "I mean this," he said, bringing one of his paws out from behind him to gesture all around. "I'm done." Nick shrugged thoughtlessly, his eyes dropping down to the beaten dirt just outside the cargo doors, the ripples in the small puddle capturing his attention. "After tonight I've got nothing left to do. I can go in any direction I want." He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he shook his head sluggishly. "It's just crazy. It hasn't even been a _week_ since I was still moping around under that bridge."

Finnick held his chin with a paw he had propped up on his own armrest, gazing at Nick through the corner of his eye. "How's it feel?"

Nick met the fennec's searching gaze, retreating back into his mind to find the right word. After a long moment, he just shrugged. "Liberating, I guess," he said lazily, his lidded gaze returning to the storm. "I don't know." For a long time his emerald eyes searched the darkness as if it held the answer, though he found nothing but rain and distant lights. "It's kinda weird to think about. Surreal, even."

A loud snort broke the peace between the two mammals, and Finnick let out a series of deep chuckles as his eyes stared down into the mason jar between his legs. "You lookin' forward to yo' first nine-to-five?" he asked jokingly.

Laughing, Nick smiled broadly over at the fennec, his eyes retaining their usual lidded appearance. "Hey," he replied coolly, shrugging his shoulder while keeping his paws behind his head. "If it happens that way, that's just how it goes." His piercing emerald eyes returned to the kettle-style grill, watching the vent on the top of the cast iron contraption coax the billows of dark smoke into the air, dissolving into the noise of rain. "I'll get by," he said, continuing in a hushed voice. "I always do."

Finnick scoffed at him, shaking his head as he brought the jar back up to his maw. "Crazy is the word I'd use…" he replied, his voice trailing off into a whisper. Nick watched him take another long pull from the glass before sloppily returning it to his lap, a surprising amount, for his size, missing from the glass. The fennec sighed loudly, scratching his cheek with his untrimmed claws. His paw moved from his cheek and smoothed down his ears deliberately, his long muzzle taking on a frown the more time dragged on. Finnick glanced over to Nick, and upon seeing the todd staring back at him, his head snapped back in the direction of the rain.

The silence enveloped the container for a long moment before the fennec spok. "This whole thing has got me thinkin', Nick," he said cautiously, dropping his arm limply down onto the armrest. "Like maybe it's 'bout time fo' me to start thinkin' 'bout gettin' out _myself_." Nick did not respond, instead studying him as he sat motionlessly, staring out into the rain with a pensive expression that created a faint furrow in his brow. Abruptly, Finnick turned his gaze over to the red fox next to him. "I ain't gettin' any younger." His eyes broke from their connection and he rolled his head around his shoulders in deliberation.

Nick hummed, a genuine smile taking hold on his features. "Maybe you could finally sleep somewhere that wasn't your van."

Finnick's eyes snapped back up to the larger mammal, a smile of his own coming to him. "Nah," he said with a dismissive wave of his paw. "I'd be a goddamn doctor with vixens hangin' off both arms and I'd still be sleeping in my van."

"It's a little late for a doctorate," Nick replied happily. He turned away from the fennec to peer back out into the rain, a contented expression on his face. "But Carrots would probably tell you to go for it."

Finnick barked out a deep laugh, doubling over forwards as he struggled not to spill any of the moonshine. " _Carrots…_ " he said after he had sufficiently calmed down, wiping one of his paws below his eye to catch a tear of mirth. He couldn't stop the second wave of chuckles that took him, though, and he returned to being unintelligible as he gasped for air, the alcohol thoroughly in his system by now. Nick just smiled at him lazily, still sprawled out over his lawn chair. After a good amount of time, Finnick was finally able to get himself under control, calming down to the point of releasing a defeated sigh. "Unreal."

It was some time before either of them spoke. "I think I'd open up an ice cream shop," Finnick said plainly, causing the red fox's ears to perk up and swivel towards him. Nick's gaze fell onto the small mammal contemplatively staring out into the rain distantly. "When I was a little kit, I never could get ice cream. All the stores wouldn't let me in and the trucks would drive away, and I'd be there, with money in my paw and not a goddamn mammal that would take it." Finnick's brow furrowed as his eyes trailed down to the mason jar in his lap. "I think it'd be pretty nice to have an ice cream dive that didn't turn mammals away because of shit they can't control."

Nick just stared blankly at his friend, studying the sullen atmosphere that rarely came off of the mammal next to him. After a long moment, Nick's eyes relaxed back into looking straight ahead, not even a trace of a smile still present on his lips. "It sure would, buddy," he whispered back. "It sure would."

The silence dragged on after that. Nick had thoroughly resigned himself to being done drinking, still having stuff to do that night, but Finnick continued nursing the moonshine carefully. The only sound between them was the muffled crackling of the fire and the loud pummeling of the falling water on the metal roof of the shipping container and the hard ground. Occasionally, cars would find their way through the deserted streets, headlights disappearing back into the tangle of concrete just as soon as they came. It was another surreal moment for Nick. It seemed like the closer he got to "normalcy", the stranger everything was.

Finnick was the one to break the silence. "Don't you have a rabbit to be talking to?" he asked flatly, cocking an eyebrow at the red fox.

Nick turned towards the fennec, his brain finding that moment as an appropriate time to cease functioning. Slowly, his blank expression fell into shock as the revelation hit him. "Shit."

A huge, toothy smile split the fennec's face as he watched Nick scramble up onto his hind paws, grabbing the lawn chair before hurriedly making his way back to where he got it. "Run, Red," he called over his shoulder with a deep laugh, listening to the red fox loudly make his way to the back, accidently kicking over cans and boxes on his way. "I bet she's feelin' so lonely right now because yo' lanky ass hasn't called her yet."

Another loud banging sound reverberated throughout the container as Nick stubbed his toe on something, cursing under his breath and limping the rest of the way to the back. After throwing the lawn chair atop a collection of other junk, he hurriedly returned to the front of the container. "Thanks for the help today, Finnick," he said without looking at the smaller predator, swiping the mason jar from the floor and heading back towards the piles. "You wouldn't believe how much I owe you."

Finnick snorted loudly, taking another sip from his glass. "Oh, I believe it, alright," he replied over his shoulder. "Be damn sure of that."

Nick slipped the jar back into its cardboard box, making sure it wouldn't get damaged if it saw any movement. Satisfied, he straightened up and snatched a heavy styrofoam cup from atop a stack of beaten cardboard boxes before jogging back to the front. "After the call I'm going to head back out to take care of the last few guns," he said, coming up beside the fennec who stared up at him blankly. Nick hooked his thumb back towards the piles of junk and sorted items. "You've had too much, so you can probably hit it and I'll finish up here when I get back."

"Nah," Finnick replied with another dismissive wave. He cocked his head backwards as he looked back up towards the todd. "I'm gonna finish this shit here. I've only got a couple left."

Nick smiled broadly. "You're a saint."

Finnick snorted again, this time the ghost of a smile creeping its way over his muzzle. "Don't you ever rat me out," he said in a rough tone, pointing one of his clawed fingers at the red fox threateningly. "I've still got street-cred to look after." The fennec looked the larger predator up and down, an amused expression taking hold. "Unlike _you_."

Chuckling, Nick strode confidently out in the rain, the chilling water soaking his shoulders in an instant. He turned around to look at the fennec as he continued in the direction of the gate, walking backwards. "If you're staying up, don't drink much more of that," he said, gesturing with a paw towards the jar in the fennec's lap. "I'll see you when I get back. Should be after four."

"What the hell is yo' dumb ass doin' still talkin' to me?" Finnick called after him, waving for him to leave. "Get the hell out of here!"

"Thanks again, Finnick!" Nick called out, turning from him to break out into a swift jog. Before he reached the gate, he turned his head over his shoulder and look at the disappearing figure of a small predator sitting in the doorway of the shipping container. "That ice cream shop isn't as far away as you think!"

"Eh!" Finnick shouted back, jumping up onto his hind paws on the seat and balling his fists up in anger. "Don't go yellin' that shit around! What if someone I knew heard that?"

Nick just barked out a laugh as he tore open the chain linked gate, pulling through the opening and shutting it behind himself as he started running down the sidewalk, the torrential water battering him every step he took. He ran with purpose down the stormy streets, cutting through alleyways and vaulting over walls all the while keeping his styrofoam container of quarters dexterously even. It must have been a funny sight, the fox mused, to anyone who saw him scrambling down the sidewalk, but he was not particularly concerned with appearances at the present time.

Rounding a brick corner, he sprinted the straight, his tail trailing behind him in the swift motion. He had more practice at this than he realistically cared to admit, running from Big's bears. As he skidded to a halt to cut his way through an alleyway, Nick clearly remembered a time when he had done this very same maneuver with a cup full of coffee in his paw. His reasoning had been it had costed him an outrageous five whole dollars, and dumping it at the first sign of trouble seemed like a waste, even if his life was technically in danger. It had proven useful, though, when he tossed the scalding liquid into the face of Raymond before escaping through an open storm drain.

All the more reason he found it odd he was now barreling through the soaking streets, with a cup full of quarters in his paw and a desperate intent to be in time for a phone call with a bunny. Nick skidded to a halt again, but this time craned his head down a deserted street, searching for a rusting pole that he knew to be idly sitting in the distance. His eyes immediately caught the sight of the old clock pole that sat on a corner down the way, and the backlit face displayed the time through the storm of falling water. It read eight twenty-six, and the red fox felt his hind paws dig into the concrete right before springing into action.

He was being ridiculous, he knew quite well. It was obvious to him, at least somewhere in his mind, that counting in his head the time he had left not to be late was plain silly. That did not stop him from picking up his pace when he believed to have past eight twenty-eight, now finding that he was sprinting the final stretch to a familiar chunk missing from the corner of a brick building. In his hurry, he opted to vault over one final trash can lying capsized on the sidewalk, the final obstacle between him and making it to the payphone on time, but when he made the leap, his hind paw caught on the aluminum handle of the can, tripping him.

He smacked into the rock painfully, skidding several feet forward as his entire collection of quarters sprinkled onto the ground around him. When he finally came to a stop, with his mirriad of coins clattering all around him to rest scattered in disarray, Nick stared up into the black sky with an impartial, lidded gaze. After a long moment of his brain catching up to his circumstances, he let a long breath out through his snout, closing his eyes to the world. He supposed he deserved that. Rarely does one get away with completely forgetting about a phone call they had to make and somehow making it in the nick of time.

Grumbling under his breath, he graced his sore hip as he pulled himself upwards. Luckily, his styrofoam cup had made it out undamaged, and he bent down, with some effort, to grab it. Turning the simple cup around in his paw, he looked down at the mess of shiney metal disks. Nick frowned, a faint growl finding its way out of the corners of his lips. Sighing one last time, he started his effort into picking up all of his spilled money, sweeping them into piles with his paws so he could grab several at a time. He quietly reprimanded himself throughout his task, the little part of his brain that recognized the ridiculousness winning out in the end.

Tiredly, he strolled the rest of the way to the payphone fixtures, shaking his coat out once he found himself shielded from the rain. Nick thumped the heavy container onto the top of the payphone of his size before running both of his paws down his face, bringing them together at the end of his long muzzle to hold his snout between the pads of his palm. Sighing in defeat, he retrieved two coins from his styrofoam cup, sliding them into the slot without much hurry as he grabbed onto the pawset. Without having to be prompted by the dull tone, Nick tapped the pound sign before a rapid flourish of his paw entered in Judy's number.

The dull, electronic ringing that followed did a lot to relax the red fox, making him forget about his frankly embarrassing spill moments before. Nick ran a paw over the top of his head as he waited, smoothing down his ears. Something inside his mind made him wonder why he was so concerned to be on time in the first place, seeing as he found no problem being fashionably late (even going so far as wait by the phone until he was so) just days before. Unfortunately for him, he could not think of a rational answer. He supposed that it probably had something to do with not wanting to make Judy think that the phone calls were a chore for him, which, now that he thought about it, they really weren't; they were the highlight of his days.

The ringing emanating from the pawset next to Nick's ear was cut short, and a soothing voice cut through the static in a chipper tone. "Nick?" she asked happily, as if the very words brought a smile to her face.

Nick chuckled. "What?" he asked. "No 'Officer Judy Hopps speaking'?"

She giggled lightly at him, making the smile on the fox's face grow even larger. "I think you've caught onto the fact that I'm a cop by now, Slick," she replied playfully, and Nick heard her chair protest as she leaned back into it. "Plus, I saved the numbers you've been calling me from."

Planting on of his paws on his chest carefully, he mocked the movements of a bow despite the fact that she couldn't see him. "Well, I'm honored," he said, his lazy smile shining through his tone completely. Nick turned from the payphone to lean back into the brick wall, throwing his elbow over the fixture. "I can't say I've ever had someone answer the phone with my name before."

"It's a week of firsts," she chirped back, the sound of her lazily drawing circles with her claws growing in intensity. The fox had to wonder if her desk was coated in circular scratch marks, as all he had seen when he was there was a clutter of paper coating the surface.

Nick groaned loudly, rolling his eyes. "Tell me about it," he replied agitatedly. The red fox tilted his snout upwards and scratched the cream colored fur of his neck with the paw hanging off the fixture. "I just embarrassed myself like you wouldn't believe. I tripped on a damn trash can on my way over here, and my quarters went _everywhere_."

Judy giggled again before replying incredulously with a singsong voice. "Nick, if you were just running late, you don't have to make something up," she said happily. "I'll understand."

Chuckling back, Nick shook his head with a toothy smile. "No, I'm serious," he defended. "My pride is really hurting over here, Carrots. I just don't know if I can go on calling myself a fox if this sort of thing keeps happening. Coyotes are more coordinated than I've been this week."

"Don't be dramatic," she said after a loud snort. "And for the record, I don't think it's okay to go around calling all coyotes clumsy. I knew a coyote in the academy, and he was plenty coordinated."

Nick hummed merrily. "That's just the natural magestic nature of canids, Sweetheart," he replied, lifting the paw that hung loosely over the fixture up into the air. "It's mesmerizing, I know." Nick nodded his head in a mock thoughtfulness, closing his eyes for effect before shrugging. "But the reality is the pack types never are as clever as us solitary ones."

"That sounds like something you'd get on _my_ case for saying," she retorted, playfulness still present in her tone.

"I'm a dog, Carrots," Nick said, opening his lidded eyes again to stare out into the storm of falling water. He looked down at his deflated tail, having lost its volume after he fell to the ground and it soaked up a good amount of water. "I'm allowed to say it."

"Yeah, okay," Judy replied, and he could feel her roll her eyes. "And I guess that's why you've apparently _stooped_ to their level, huh? Seeing as how you're tripping over trash cans just to talk to your favorite bunny."

Nick's eyebrows rose a good distance up his forehead as straightened out from the wall to grab his tail. "That's mighty presumptuous of you," he said with a lazy grin, wringing out his long appendage and shaking out what water he could from it. "Maybe I know a whole host of cute little rabbits. How would you know?"

Groaning, Nick heard her foot thumping against the ground in irritation, and it made his smile all the more broad. "I _know_ because if you knew a whole _host_ of us," she replied bitingly, though he could clearly detect her attempting to conceal the smile present on her lips. "You would be a little more sensitive with the 'c' word, you tactless bully."

Nick just chuckled at her. "Come on now, Carrots," he said, stepping out from the wall to shake out the water in his fur for a second time, this time significantly drying the predator. "You know it's flattering when it comes from me."

"Do I know that?" she asked boredly. "No. No, I do not." Nick smiled at the harsher tone she used to finish her musing, finding the whole ordeal immensely entertaining. "It's insulting, Nick."

"Would you believe me if I told you I didn't think all bunnies are cute?" he asked with wiggling eyebrows, flinging his elbow back over the fixture as he leaned into the bricks.

Judy snorted at him. "And what _exactly_ is that supposed to prove?" she asked rhetorically, as Nick believed the answer she was looking for was 'nothing'. She made another noise after abruptly halting her lazy circling, and Nick could only assume she was using some expressive gesturing with he free paw. "How the heck would you know the difference, anyway?"

"The difference in what?" Nick asked with a cocked eyebrow. "Are you saying that _just_ because I am a fox, I can't appreciate the aesthetic qualities of someone of another species?" He clicked his tongue loudly, lowing his tone to match that of distinct heartbreak as he connected the back of his free paw to his forehead dramatically. "And here I thought you changed."

Judy couldn't help herself, and she fell into a spout of light giggles that brought back Nick's lidded smugness in an instant. "That still does not give you the right to call bunnies cute," she finally replied, an enormous smile shining through her words as she began lazily drawing circles again.

The red fox believed he had set himself up pretty well, and the toothy smile that took his face reflected that. "Have you got a hat on over there, Fluff?" he teased her, not really expecting an answer as he lowered his voice to a husky rumble. "I'm not calling _bunnies_ cute."

The other end of the line went silent, and Nick had to suppress a bark of laughter when she made a frustrated pout. It was far too easy to get on her nerves, an opinion made all the more accurate by how she telegraphed everything that irritated to her to the point of being an open book. Nick knew he should be more tactful when it came to one of his only friends, but the temptation was far too strong for him to resist. "That's not fair," she whispered back, Nick's sensitive ears picking up on the light sound of her running her paw over one of her ears.

"Oh?" Nick asked playfully, cocking an eyebrow to the waves of dark falling water in front of him. "You _were_ flattered, weren't you?"

Judy snorted harshly, though he could tell she was smiling. "Your charm does not work on me, mister," she replied, attempting to sound serious. "You still can't call me that."

Nick hummed. "Are you sure?" he asked, a hint of mock skepticism in his voice. "I'm pretty sure that's what I just did."

Giggling breathily, Judy let out a long sigh into the air between them. They settled into a comfortable silence that had become a hallmark of their conversations, Nick closing his eyes to the world with a contented look on his face, listening to Judy's gentile breathing. Absorbed in their own thoughts, they existed peacefully in each other's company, the only sounds between them being their own breathing and the lazy drawing of a claw across wood. Judy was the first to speak in the contented silence. "So how was your day?" she asked, and if it were anyone else, Nick would have assumed they didn't really care.

The red fox's eyes fluttered open to the cold night air, lidden in the gaze out into the storm. "Long," he replied plainly. "Repetitive. A little nerve wracking, but I made it out in one piece." His searching gaze fell onto the styrofoam cup sitting next to him, and his paw absently made its way over to the white container. "How about yours? Did you get saddled with vegetable duty again?"

"Thankfully, no," Judy said. "It's been about the same when it comes to sitting around."

"That's good to hear," Nick replied softly, his own claws drawing on the styrofoam, indenting shapes into the delicate material. He stared at his work blankly, not really paying attention to what he was doing. "Sitting around is cruelly underrated, and I could go for a lot more of it."

Judy scoffed at that, though not really in Nick's direction. "Well," she said, her voice trailing off. "I could go for a lot less of it." The fox heard the sound of her flicking something away in frustration, puffing some air out from her cheeks. "It's just so _boring_."

"Why don't you read a book?" he asked, his claws adding some intricate shading to a pair of rabbit ears he had given to a oval. "You've got like a mountain of them in your room."

Nick practically felt her roll her eyes at him. "Yeah," she drolled out, her claw returning to the restless motion she found herself in. It was a wonder how bunnies did not keel over from the amount of energy they exerted simply not being capable of sitting still, and Nick had to guess the quasi-akathisia that all rabbits must suffer from was a grueling nightmare, to be sure. "I've read them all, Nick. Why do you think they're here? The mystery is never as good when you go into the book already knowing you did it."

Nick snorted at her, moving onto detailing the face of the rabbit he was drawing on the styrofoam, starting on a tiny button nose with lines around it to signify movement. "You probably solve it halfway through, anyway," he lazily replied. "What's the difference?"

"Maybe the fact that I know for sure?" she asked incredulously, and the fox could hear her prop her phone up with an elbow on the desk in front of her. "You can't just drop an investigation halfway through the evidence because everything points to one person."

"You _would_ say that," he replied, cutting grooves into the styrofoam in the shape of two enormous eyes. When he was finished the cartoonish rendition of the rabbit, he moved onto drawing the visage of a fox next to it, starting with a jagged shape that loosely resembled the shape of his head.

The air between them settled again, and this time Nick was spurred into motion when the sound of an electronic tone played over the pawset. Abandoning his drawing, he pushed off the wall to the front of the fixture, fishing two coins out from the defaced container. "So, I've got great news!" Judy exclaimed happily, a smile clearly splitting her face in twain. Nick's eyebrows rose into the air as he inserted one coin after another, listening to the rabbit on the other end of the line bounce in her seat excitedly.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked drowsily, returning to his spot nestled in between two fixtures, against the brick wall. "Did you convince your parents to get you a laptop so you can watch some movies instead of twiddling your thumbs?"

"No, I did not do that," she replied, mocking the words. When she answered him, he voice had raised a number of decimals, betraying just how excited she was. "I'm coming back to the city tomorrow!"

Nick immediately straightened up, his ears perking up as high as they could go in his head. "Tomorrow?" he asked elatedly. When the only reply was an affirmative hum from the bunny on the other end of the line, he felt his head swim in delight. He was quick, though not quick enough, to push down his feelings to return to his usual calm demeanor. He knew that she probably already made him for being excited, but he could brush off easily. Nick did not find he was particularly concerned at the moment about Judy finding out that he wanted to see her. They were best friends, after all. Wanting to see each other was natural. "That's great!"

"Isn't it?" she chirped back, an even larger smile present in her voice. "I called my old landlady the day I got back, and we finished all the paperwork yesterday. It's pretty lucky that no one rented the place I was staying at." Judy hummed in thought before sighing loudly. She leaned back into her chair with a pained creaking of wood and continued talking about her hopes for the near future. "When I get back I can go see if I can get these dang stitches removed, and I can even go back to work! I might have to ride a desk for awhile, but I get to be a cop again!"

Nick chuckled at her, a toothy smile splitting his face despite his lidded eyes retaining their fake disinterest. "Sitting around and doing nothing _does_ sound like a pretty big step up from sitting around and doing nothing," he quipped back.

Judy let out a few breathy giggles. "Oh, hush," she replied dismissively. "I'll be sitting around with a _badge_ , Nick." Nick's smile threatened to tear his face apart when she let out an excited squeal over the airwaves. "It's going to be fantastic!"

Nick was overjoyed at the news, feeling that he couldn't wait to actually _see_ her again instead of just talking to her through decrepit payphones. One thing did make his bright mood dwindle in intensity, though. It was a thought that manifested the moment he had heard she was coming back to the city. "What, uh…" he said lamely, his voice trailing off into an indecipherable sound. Nick brought his free paw up to scratch the cream colored fur of his neck in thought, his mind scrutinizing her words to see if she had already answered his question. She had not. "Is someone driving you back?"

A moment of silence passed between them. "No," she replied. "I'm taking the train."

The fox's eyebrows rose up on his forehead, his claws pausing in his fur just above the collar of his shirt. "But someone is coming with you, right?" he inquired, his tone taking on a more serious sound.

Judy did not respond immediately, likely trying to determine why Nick was asking her that question. She found no such luck in guessing, and instead replied in a leading voice of wonder. "No…?"

Nick scoffed at her, pulling off the wall to stand in front of the payphone fixture, brow furrowed on his forehead. "Well," he said bluntly, waving his free paw out in front of himself. "How the hell are you going to carry your luggage?"

"I'm an adult, Nick," she replied after letting out an incredulous groan. "And I happen to be the first rabbit to ever become a cop." Judy emphasized her words by tapping on her desk loudly, her padless finger's dull claw scraping against the wood with every contact. "I think I can handle pulling a suitcase with a tiny leg injury."

"I didn't realize you got another one," he said flatly.

Nick could hear her nose twitch, the fur of her muzzle scraping against the electronic device in her paw. "Another what?" she asked, confused by his words.

"Leg injury," he replied, crossing his free arm over his chest in irritation. He stared at the bricks above the payphone fixture harshly, his brow having furrowed dangerously. "You must have gotten another one, because the one I was talking about was anything _but_ tiny."

The phone was silent for a moment. "You're being dramatic again."

Nick scoffed at her. "So are you," he replied, gesturing wildly with his free paw as he spoke. "You can't go lugging around all of your stuff on that leg. You'll make it worse, and then you'll have to sit around bored here in the city instead of comfortably in your house."

"Oh, would you stop it?" she asked, puffing out her cheeks in frustration. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Nick."

He ignored her. "What time are you leaving?"

"From Bunnyburrow?"

Nick nodded his head despite the fact that she couldn't see him. "Yeah," he drolled out, rolling his head around his shoulders at the obviousness of the question.

Judy hummed, still not sure where Nick was going with his question. "I'm taking the twelve-thirty."

"Then I'll take the nine-fifteen and meet you there," Nick replied flatly, sticking his free paw into his pocket defiantly. His tail swished behind him as the phone's silence dragged out, Judy still trying to wrap her head around what Nick was saying. "I'll carry your bags for you."

"What?" she asked incredulously, her tone of voice sounding irritated if it weren't for a faint undertone of genuine surprise. It was a long moment before she spoke again, and he could tell she had grown slightly bashful at the suggestion. "No, Nick. You don't have to do that."

Nick snorted. "And here I thought I was being forced at gunpoint," he mused, rolling his eyes.

Judy tried again to sound stern, but hints of a more timid opinion broke through the cracks in her steady tone. "I'm serious," she replied, and Nick again heard her pat down her ears. "I can do it."

"I can't believe you were getting on _my_ case for not relying on other mammals a little bit," Nick said with a slow shake of his head. He allowed the air between them to grow silent for a moment, and the fox listened to her thoughtful breathing. Whether or not she was adverse to what he was suggesting for reasons of principle, or some other reason, he didn't know. What Nick did know what that even if she told him not to, he'd probably show up anyway. A fact that he believed she might be catching onto. "Would it kill you to let me help you?"

"That's like a seven and a half hour round trip," she commented, abandoning her firm rejection to try to reason with him. "It'll practically be a full day."

Nick just chuckled dryly at her, bringing his paw out of his pocket to trail upward. When it reached the top of the payphone fixture, he slowly turned the styrofoam cup around, revealing the cartoonish faces of a fox and a rabbit right next to each other, both with happy grins on their muzzles. "Didn't I already spend a lot more time than that driving you out there?" he asked softly, gazing at the drawing he had made.

She still wasn't convinced. "I don't know..." she said, her voice trailing off into a whisper.

"Come on," he persuaded her, a playful tone taking hold as he smiled toward nothing in particular. "We'll play 'I Spy' the whole way in."

The phone was silent for a long time. Finally, Judy release a couple breathy giggles, and her drowsy voice hummed its way into his sensitive ears. "Thanks, Nick," she said softly, and he heard on the other side of the line the sound of her returning to drawing lazy circles in the wood of her desk. "You're a great friend..."

Nick hummed at that, turning back away from the fixture to lean into the brick wall. He watched the rain for a long moment, listening to the gentle sound of Judy breathing and the gentle patter of the water on the street. "And I won't ever let you forget it," he said into the microphone, keeping his voice at a husky whisper.

She giggled at him, the breathy sound warming him in ways he could scarcely describe. "I hope so," she whispered back, and it warmed him all the way to his core.

The fox would have to put the future on hold for one more day. Nick believed he deserved the break, with how much he had done in the past week. It had been exhausting, both physically and emotionally, and he was just three tiny bags hidden throughout the city away from leaving that life behind him for good. What life would follow, he couldn't know. Even as some things grew ever more uncertain the more he neared the end of his past life, others felt more certain than he could have possibly imagined. One of those things was how badly he wanted to see Judy again, and how much he understood that no matter _what_ he chose to do, she would be there.

There was an emotion that stirred in his stomach as he smiled lamely at the payphone. It was something that he had written off as a fruitless feeling so many years ago. Nick had believed that he didn't need it, but the more times he had felt it over the past week, despite how grueling his days had been, the more he realized that he wanted nothing _but_ that feeling. It was happiness. Nick was happy for the first time in a _very_ long time, and it was not lost on him _who_ it was that made him feel that way. He just hoped that he could return the favor, even if it took him his whole life.


	20. Thanks for being you

_11:51 am, September 18th_

* * *

Nick was starting to believe that he thought too much. Oddly enough, this conclusion was brought about by a _very_ long stint of quiet reflection. It honestly surprised the fox how many hours there were in the day, as it seemed every waking moment before that week had been a precious, as well as overtly calculated, use of his time. Now, he found himself mired in the hours of the day dragging on, and had come to recognize just how peaceful, in its own way, completely shunning the process of self-reflection had been. He supposed that's why it was called _blissful_ ignorance, as opposed to plain stupidity.

It wasn't enough that after the phone call the night before had ended - and Nick had once again ventured out into the sleeping city in a quest of inherently _illegal_ intent - he walked through the shrouded city streets, his mind bogged down in more thoughts than he could conceivably address, even if he had been given the whole night to do so. Which was why he was considerably worse for wear, because given the whole night to do so he was. If he had known, if he had seen the _slightest_ sign, that consistently ignoring crucial personal questions would cause him to be _drowned_ in them at some point of time, he would have hired a therapist.

After the phone call, it was clear what his goal was. He had to hunt down and find the last remaining guns hidden throughout the city. Unfortunately for him, one of the reasons he had left those three bags _specifically_ to deal with far later than the others was just how _impractical_ their hiding spots were. He had never spared any expense to ensure that some random mammal could not just happen across a deadly firearm, but he believed that there was surely a point where it became ridiculous, and those three bags were proof enough of that. What followed was a grueling night that left him more drained than he could have possibly imagined.

Nick had shivered in a frozen cave, chiseling away at the wall of a glacier to reach a icy red bag hidden well within; clawed his way up a steamer tree in the heart of the Rainforest district, nearly choking on the water vapor in the air as he navigated the maze-like steam channels in the pitch dark; and braved the Sahara Square heat ducts, only finding the abandoned maintenance corridor _after_ he nearly keeled over from heat stroke. The red fox despised himself for his ludicrous decisions. Rationally, he supposed that hiding something you'd only need in a life or death situation in a place you'd only venture to in a life or death situation made sense. It did not, however, make the task any less excruciating.

His only solace was the fact that he was now _completely_ done with his old life. Not a trace remained of the conmammal Nicholas Wilde - save for some random junk piled in a rusting shipping container. With all of his fake identities burned, his caches disassembled, and his illicit infrastructure in complete ruins, all that was left behind was the plain fox. He now found himself largely unconcerned with the future, and not having elaborate hustles to plan or mammals to watch out for left his mind free to wander in any way that it wanted, which, as far as Nick was concerned, was a mistake.

The padded fingers of Nick's paws found themselves pressed against his temples, desperately trying to quell the merciless thoughts that tormented him. He tried for the last time to push his regret away with the force against either side of his head, keeping his eyes tightly shut as if it would help stop the repentance that dominated his psyche. There was no purpose for his heated distaste besides that of finally having a clear mind capable of hindsight, and fervently not liking what he saw. Still, his mind waged on, throwing uncomfortable memory after memory at him, never letting up.

Something in the back of his head had to wonder if Judy knew the breadth of his misdeeds, however innocuous most of it may have been, would she still accept him as a friend? Another part of him knew that something like that was in every way a ridiculous question, but that did not stop the fear from manifesting itself. What course of action did he possess, then, if he believed that she would not accepted him after finding out just how extraordinary his pursuit of remaining on the fringe of society had been? Was he willing to lie to her and wholly fabricate a mammal that he knew Judy would like? In layman's terms: No. No, he was not.

Which asked the question that had tormented him for almost twelve hours now: how the hell was he going to spin his life in a way that didn't make him sound like a goddamn lunatic? Nick let out a muffled groan, cupping his muzzle in his paws drowsily. It did not help that he was working on precious little sleep. After scattering the pieces of the remaining guns to the wind, he had found himself back at the lot a few measly hours before sunrise, Finnick inelegantly snoring away after he had passed out on a beanbag chair amongst the clutter. He barely had enough time to clean the mess in the grill before heading off in the direction of Zootopia Central Station.

Nick stretched the skin on his face as he dragged his head upwards, keeping his paws where they were, propped up on his knees. Despite the fact that his movement had nearly pulled his bottom eyelids all the way down to his cheekbones, giving his muzzle the impression that it was melting, it was still staggeringly clear how exhausted he was. _Not a wink_ , he whined to himself. _I try to actually sleep on a train in the first time in who the hell knows how many years, and it's impossible for me to even get comfortable_. The fox couldn't understand it. He'd slept in some of the most off-putting spots you could think of, yet a padded bench in a bullet train wasn't comfortable enough?

A dry cough from behind him was all he received in response, and Nick was again reminded why he wasn't asleep at that very moment. The fox sighed, running a paw over the top of his head to smooth down his ears in frustration. He knew it was a useless effort to try to sleep when there were other mammals around. Call it a nervous twitch or just a testament to his ingrained wariness, but Nick was just not comfortable with sleeping anywhere near another mammal. The opinion was called into question by just how rested he felt after the night up in the loft, though. Still, it applied towards strangers all the same.

The train barreled down the tracks at a nauseating speed, at least as far as the sleep-deprived fox was concerned. It cut through the air with a high pitched hum, steadily broken up by the sound of the train's metal wheels bouncing on the breaks in the tracks and the roarious shower of the torrential storm. The inside of the train car was surprisingly quiet despite the forces that battled for attention, the piddling sounds of the mammals that shared his car finding far more purchase, as well as far more irritation on the part of the red fox, than anything else, and it made him begrudgingly wish for a open window.

Nick found himself on the window seat of a bench halfway down the train car. The ostentatious nature of the railed transportation was difficult to miss, with the brightly colored orange interior and sleek chrome finishes, but it was not without its character. With the simple layout of lines of benches on either side of the train car, it was easy to notice the thought put into catering to mammals of every size. Seats varied in size evenly throughout the long car, creating waves of backrests leading all the way back to a sleek looking cylindrical elevator. The padden green seats stood out from the distinctly orange interior, though they fit the motif.

In the middle of the car the roof opened up into a portion of the ever illustrious observation deck, sitting comfortably above a patch of unbroken extra large seats to accommodate the tallest of mammals. Nick's eyes trailed around the edges of the ceiling, skimming over a plethora of advertisements and safety instructions. To Nick, it just wasn't much to look at. In truth, he had a pretty good idea what everything looked like the second he entered a room, and being forced to sit still with a bunch of strangers with nothing to look at but trees and rocks was an immensely arduous task.

The emerald lidded gaze of the fox trailed out the window, past the streams of droplets sailing across the glass, and out into the hilly landscape. Fields of produce stretched far into the distance, only ending at the base of enormous rocky mounds that framed the valley the train was passing through. Beyond the golden rows of wheat and the hatched sprouts of root vegetables, grew grand oak knolls that rolled in the gentle grey light of the storm farther than the fox could see. The rain gave a benign sway to the branches of the immense trees, soothing in their dance with the wind of the storm.

Despite Nick's irritation, he couldn't help admit how tranquil it was out here. He had noticed it before, walking down the deserted streets at night and again on the train ride back into town, but it never stopped giving him a sense of serenity every time he focused in on observing the peaceful, if active, countryside. He sighed again. There would be a time for feeling the way he did, but now was not it. He may have gotten effectively no sleep in the past twenty-four hours, but that did not mean he could not be excited to see Judy again. The fox forced his posture upwards, alternating in smacking himself on either side of his muzzle to wake himself up.

Nick's heavy eyelids did not convince him that his efforts were working, and he let out another sigh. Abruptly, he jumped off the padded bench, his hind paws making contact with the frigid metal floor, causing the fox to wince. The cool autumn air streamed along the undercarriage as it shot over the wet ground, sucking the heat out of the metal and subsequently any standing mammal that had the misfortune to have to walk across it. He scooted out into the aisle sideways, turning around towards the back of the train car with his tail swishing behind, and sauntered between the rows of seats towards his destination.

Passing through the aisle on the moving train, Nick made his way in the direction of the cylindrical elevator. On his way, his fellow passengers, an elk in a sweater vest, a rumpled looking zebra, and a beaver absorbed in his phone, took their opportunities to shoot indignant glares at him as he passed, pulling their belongings closer. The only one who didn't, though it was no show of non-prejudiced beliefs, was the beaver, who did not even acknowledge his passing. The fox was unconcerned by this show of opinions, and scarcely even noticed it with his tired eyes gazing straight ahead.

When he reached the cylinder, though, he did not call the car, instead arcing his movement around the elevator's circumference to come upon a plain orange door marked 'Restroom' on the very back of the railcar. Nestled just behind the cylinder, next to an exterior door that led out into the stormy rain, the restroom was very small in width, though not in height. The entrance stretched five or six times the height of the fox in front of it, stretching all the way to the ceiling. Nick grabbed onto a latch handle, pulling it upwards, and listening to the mechanisms within give so that the well-oiled doorway opened easily, despite the size difference.

Nick slipped into the space promptly, closing the door behind him by hooking it with his hind paw as he passed through. He ran his paw over a vertical black bar that stretched the height of the restroom, acting as a touchpad in the exact same vain as the elevator. With a shrill buzzing noise, the fluorescent lights flickered to life, or what could be conceivably called 'life', if you were generous. Nick blinked for a moment, allowing his sensitive eyes to adjust to the irritating illumination before turning his them around the room. It was oddly misshapen, with a convex space cut out to make room for the elevator on the other side.

It was a pitiful little room. While a good size for the small fox, he had no idea how mammals of the larger variety were able to maneuver inside such a space. The restroom had somehow managed to cram in it three different sizes of toilets, all fit for the most general of size classifications, and two sinks stacked on top of each other. Rising above the largest sink, a mirror stretched all the way to the ceiling, while a comparably stubby one was nestled in its underside, above the smaller sink. Nick strolled over to the two fixtures, twisting the cold water knob roughly. The liquid followed a high-pitched whine, cascading into the porcelain bowl below the faucet.

Cupped maroon paws blocked the water's path, filling up with the water quickly thanks to the pressure. The unprotected pads of the fox's paws did not feel comfortable holding the frigid water, his exhausted body making it feel even colder than it was. Nick splashed the water into his face, keeping his muzzle still over the drain as it dripped off of his fur. He splashed his face again, this time rubbing it in. After the final dash of water, he kept his eyes shut as he twisted the knob to shut off the stream of liquid. Flicking his paws into the sink to shake off what water he could, he yanked free a pawful of paper towels from a fixture on the wall.

Nick dabbed his eye's first, allowing him to open up his emerald orbs to peer at himself in the mirror. If there had been an improvement, he could not discern it. Tossing the used paper towels into a layered trashcan, his eyes returned to his reflection. To an outside observer, it would probably take two or three glances to realize he was barely maintaining a conscious presence, but to him it was starkly apparent. Nick brought up a paw to rub the skin on his protruding cheekbone, rolling the pad around his face in circular motions. His exhaustion was not the only thing he saw in his reflection.

Just a few days before, he had found himself in a very similar position, studying himself in the mirror. However, back in the grimy shower room of the gym, his visage took on an undeniably sullen appearance, the features of his face sinking into his skull. Whether it had been how he felt or how well he had been taking care of himself, it was difficult to say, but it was present all the same. Now, despite his unambiguous drowsiness, it carried a different look, a lighter look. In the place of his gaunt features was a look of complete carelessness. It was not the carefree mask that he wore so well, but striking in its air of genuineness.

It was still a strange feeling, to the fox, that he was no longer the hustler that never stayed still. It would almost be difficult to believe if his memory of it was not so vivid. Still, with the reality of his situation being just that, he couldn't help the light feeling that he carried with him, emanating from the crown of his head. Or perhaps he was just lightheaded from not eating enough. Either way, he chose to believe that it was the physical manifestation of his relinquished chains, no matter how ridiculous it sounded to his usually logical mind. Nick took a step back from the mirror to get a more whole view of himself.

He wore a immensely bright hot pink collared shirt, a floral decorated tie of teals, whites, and blood reds standing out glaringly from his chest. The stark ivory colored slacks that he wore were spotless, as well as the rest of his clothes. Nick had also taken to combing his coat to the point of immaculacy, taking great care in matching its natural direction. Upon seeing the fur of his muzzle slightly miffed, he took a step back towards the mirror, leaning over the sink as he retrieved his comb. As his paw fished inside his pocket for the toothed piece of plastic, the tips of his fingers brushed against a ribbed piece of orange plastic.

Nick paused for a moment, his eyes searching his reflection as his paw slowly enclosed around the pen. He brought it out from his pocket to study, his lidded eyes running over the details of the pen sculpted to look like a carrot in his paw. A smile crept up his muzzle as he stared at it, turning it around to view it from every angle. Nick stuffed the pen back into his pocket with a newfound determination, pulling out the comb with his retracting paw. He had gone through all of that effort to look presentable to Judy and her family, so he was not about to let a few measly hours of lost sleep get in the way of that.

Combing the fur of his muzzle precisely, he ran the pad of his thumb over the side of his face just before his snout. Nick could feel the faint traces of his whiskers growing back out, and silently reminded himself to trim them when he returned to the city. When he was done, he looked on at the perfectly groomed mammal in the mirror while sticking the comb back into his pocket, satisfied with his work. He remained where he stood for a moment, scrutinizing his appearance. Not much was certain of his future, but one of the things that was certain was that he wasn't going to change how he dressed. It had grown on him far too much to stop now.

Nick's paw trailed slowly towards his other pocket, patting the outside of his pants to feel a different object he had gotten the other day. The rectangular shape was another reason he had been thinking too much, and it had asked more questions than it invariably could solve, but that did not keep Nick from keeping it with him, allowing it to occupy his thoughts since he had got it. For whatever reason, he was conflicted. Not about whether or not it was a good thing, but whether or not Judy would see it the same way. He could only hope that when she saw it, she would understand why.

The train rumbled under his hind paws, a motion he was quite familiar with, as he had felt it many times before. Nick felt his body sway in the change in momentum, a movement he knew to only mean one thing: the train was slowing down. Having already finished everything he set out to do, he made one more glance into the mirror. Pulling his lips up, he snapped his jaw open and shut at his own reflection, allowing his face to slide back into a familiar contented expression, complete with lidded eyes and a lazy smile. Nick turned abruptly, unlatching the restroom door and strolling back out into the muted light of the storm inside int railcar.

Nick did not return to his seat, instead making his way over to a low window to study his surroundings. In the time that Nick had spent in the restroom, the surrounding area had been filled with the houses and streets of his destination, rickety powerlines and spotty wooden fences accentuating the small town aesthetic. He had arrived in Bunnyburrow, and the station was fast approaching. Peering down the tracks as far as he could, the fox saw a familiar yellow and magenta building, stylized so that either side of the building looked like a rabbit. Nick felt a genuine smile take hold of his placeholder, eyebrows raising in delight over his lidded gaze.

Stepping away from the low window, Nick made his way over to the exit. Near the back of the train was a section of the floor that lowered down to the height of station platforms, made out of a checker plate of steel so that mammals would not slip on the ramp. It stood out from the smooth orange metal flooring in its metallic shine, though a lot of it scuffs and scratches that kept it from looking new. The only parts of the checker plate that retained its luster were the tips of the raised steel pattern, which saw the most friction, while the lower parts of the plate had been tarnished by years of use.

Over the noise generated by the cracks in the automatic doorway just in front of the fox, Nick heard the other passengers begin to collect their belongings and get up. Anticipation was building inside the fox as the train continued to slow, and an excitement that cause the fox's tail to lazily wag behind him took hold. It hadn't even been a week since he saw her last, and the feelings of giddiness brought by the prospect of seeing her again was overpowering. He made a point of halting the movement of his tail, feeling slightly embarrassed by the display, but did not let it hamper his enthusiasm.

A electronic hum played over the railcar's speaker, followed by the familiar feminine announcer of the ZTA in a clear tone. _"Now approaching Bunnyburrow station,"_ the recording announced, making the fox's smile grow wider still. _"Please wait for the doors to completely open before exiting the car, and have a nice day."_

The train slowly came to a stop, causing the fox to sway from side to side when the motion was finally brought to a halt by the breaks. Another tone played over the speakers just before the doors in front of Nick pulled open automatically, revealing the fantastic sight on the other side. Standing just under one of the station's tin overhangs was a collection of bunnies all huddled together out of the rain. Just in front of that cluster of homely looking rabbits, leaning into a single crutch under her right shoulder, was Judy, beaming an enormous toothy smile at him that captured her entire face.

Nick stepped off the train and into the falling water of the storm, making his way over to the group of lapins. To his amusement, Judy swiftly limped out into the rain to meet him. She was practically jogging, which if it did not look so funny, he would have been irritated by the fact that she was putting so much strain on her leg, even if she was using a crutch to do so. When she was just a few feet from the fox, she abandoned her crutch and hopped the rest of the way, slamming her face into his abdomen and knocking the air out of him as she wrapped her arms around his middle.

Chuckling when he regained his balance, he looked down at the top of her head, her long ears plastered against her back as she buried her face further into his chest. Nick hugged her back with one of his arms around her shoulders, bringing the other to pat the top of her head. "You look like a flamingo," she said, giggling into his shirt. Her warm breath reaching into his fur had the same effect on him that it did in the loft, causing a shiver to run down his spine. He vaguely thought that he had been worried about something just moments before, but for the life of him he could not remember what it was.

Nick was powerless to the genuine smile that split his face. "When I became your friend, you accepted the terms, sweetheart," he replied, taking in a large breath of air through his snout to catch her scent. It smelled a lot like the rain itself, a mixture of earthy tones and soft hints of flowers, all with the subtle undertone of her natural scent, a smell that Nick could only describe as _'Judy'_. "Me and my _stylish_ fashion sense are a package deal. Trust me though, you'll learn to love it."

She giggled into his chest, and the fox could feel her smile through his shirt she had bored herself into him so much. Nick continued to lazily study the top of her head for a moment, convincing himself that he was, in fact, awake, and he did, in fact, come all the way to Bunnyburrow just to turn around, and was somehow completely okay with that. Judy pulled away from him, her small arms breaking their grip only to glide away with her slow movement. She did not break away, though, instead opting to keeping her padless paws connected to the fox as she stared up at him, overjoyed.

She was unbalanced without her single crutch, making her sway slightly until Nick brought his paws to settle underneath her elbows, allowing her to press her weight into his palms. "It's good to finally see you again," she chirped, her wide, toothy smile accentuated by her enormous buck teeth. It surprised Nick how much he had missed something so simple as her uneven incisors.

Cocking an eyebrow at her, his lips curled up in amusement. "We've been talking on the phone every day for a week now, Carrots," he informed her, his emerald eyes running down her body. Her blue gingham shirt had been rolled up at the elbows, the shoulders thoroughly drenching every moment they remained in the storm's path. Through the tight fitting skinny jeans that she wore, he saw the outline of the wound dressing underneath. Nick brought his lidded green eyes back up to meet hers, calmly studying her deep amethyst irises until he found himself lost in them, as if it was the first time he had seen them.

Judy's smile became apologetic as she nervously retracted one of her paws to smooth down her floppy ears on the back of her head. "I know," she replied bashfully. "But it's just not the same." Placing her paw back onto Nick's side, she looked over what he was wearing, calling attention to it before returning his gaze with her own building amusement. "You _could_ have worn something a little less tacky, though. For my parent's sake, at least."

"Tacky?" he asked after widening his eyes at her accusation. Nick tilted his snout up and away from the bunny in front of him, turning his head to look like he had been insulted. "How could you?"

She laughed at his theatrics, her shoulders jerking upwards in quick movements before she buried her face back into his chest. "I'm just speaking the truth, Slick," she said impishly. Judy rolled her face on his chest, turning to keep her cheek firmly planted against him as she looked up into his eyes. "And I thought the green was bad. Cheese and crackers."

Nick snorted at her, their faces only inches apart. He shifted his weight onto his heels, making Judy lean further into him to widen the gap between their muzzles a little more. "Would you believe me if I told you that the green one is the tamest thing I've got?" he asked.

Another toothy smile cracked up the side of her face that wasn't pressed into him as she stared at him. "Absolutely."

Nick chuckled, the choppy expulsion of air making her bounce back and forth on his chest, the sight alone prolonging the laughter. "It's good to see you, too, Fluff," he replied, watching her roll her face back into him so all he saw was the top of her head. Nick took this opportunity to look though his brow towards the mass of rabbits quietly standing under the overhang, seeing no need to venture out into the storm. From this distance, he could not discern their expressions, but Nick could see that two of the older ones were exchanging sideways looks. "I see you've brought the whole family."

As if remembering that they had an audience, Judy quickly disentangled herself from him, grabbing hold of his sides to support herself. She looked over her shoulder at the group, her nose twitching endlessly with an expression bordering on worry. Turning back to look at Nick, she gave him a sheepish smile. "Not even close, but a lot of them did come back to see me off to the city," she said. A thought crossed her eyes as she stared up into his, and the smile on her face grew wider. Hopping away from the fox, she grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him along in her uneven stride. "Come on!" she chirped over her shoulder. "I'll introduce you."

The smile on the fox's muzzle tapered a degree as he peered over the rabbit pulling him along and through the rain, seeing the mass of bunnies ominously in the distance. Nick pulled her back towards him, causing her to look up questioningly. The only reply she got was a slightly raised eyebrow and a slow shake of the todd's head before he guided her slowly to the side, bending down to retrieve the crutch she had so carelessly discarded. "Only if you swear you'll protect me if your dad brandishes a fox taser," he replied lazily, handing over the aluminum implement over to her.

Judy snorted at him as she situated the crutch under her shoulder. Taking a limping step away from the fox only to grab onto his arm with her free paw to continue dragging him. "If Dad _ever_ pulls a taser on you, it'll be _him_ who will be in for a world of pain," she said, and Nick could not tell if she was joking. "I don't care if he _did_ raise me."

His smile curled upwards further, slightly revealing his sharp teeth under his lips. He made a point of closing his jaw to keep them from being visible. "Ooh," he dryly replied. Nick looked back up at the mob of tiny rabbits they were fast approaching, and again his eyes trailed over to the two older bunnies. He recognized them from the larger painting he had seen in Judy's home. They were her parents. Nick's eyes dropped back onto Judy, who still had a firm grasp on his arm. "Just so we're on the same page," he said slowly, his eyes trading between the bunny he knew and the army he didn't. "What did you tell them I did for a living?"

Looking at him from the corner of her eye as she continued hobbling along towards her family, she smiled at him. "I told them you were my _friend_ ," she replied. "What you do for a living is hardly any of their business, and as a matter of fact they didn't even ask." Her expression soured slightly as she turned back to face them, though just before she did, Nick saw her nose beginning to twitch. When she spoke again, her voice had lowered to the point that it was barely audible above the patter of rain on the brick platform. "They were far too hung up about your species, just to warn you."

Nick's ears swiveled backwards as his brow furrowed, but he quickly reversed the automatic expression, returning it to his usual lidded contentedness. He nodded his head slowly as he trailed behind her. "I already assumed as much," he said quietly, cocking an eyebrow at her. "Any words I should avoid?"

Judy's face split into an amused smirk, and she looked back at him incredulously. "How about you just let me do the talking?" she asked, her playful tone not diminishing the seriousness of her reply.

Nodding his head in agreement, he shot a quick glance up towards the hoard before his eyes snapped back to gaze into her amethyst pools. "So…" His voice trailed off as he rolled his head around in contention. "All of them, then?" he asked, his eyebrows raising up on his forehead.

A light giggle escaped her wide smile as she turned back around. "To be on the safe side," she said, pretending to consider it by tilting her snout upwards in thought. She glanced back at him with her own lidded gaze. "I would say _more_ than all of them."

Nick nodded in understanding, trading his vision between Judy and the group of rabbits they were almost upon. "Keep my trap shut and let you do all the talking," he reiterated plainly. "Got it."

Judy's bounce in her step slowed considerably, and she turned to look at the fox with a deeply furrowed brow and a twitching nose. Nick just smiled wider at her, and her face again contorted into disbelief. She let go of his arm and pointed at him dangerously. "I know what you're thinking," she scolded him, narrowing her eyes. "Don't you da-"

"Hey there, Mr. and Mrs. H!" Nick called out, circumventing Judy's desperate grasp to stop him as he passed her. He quickened his pace as he strolled over towards the two older bunnies, outpacing Judy by a good margin. Passing under a curtain of water falling off the roof with a duck of his head, his lidded smile was brought up to the scrutinizing eyes of more than fifty bunnies. It was a strange sight for the fox, though it still seemed relatively tame compared to some of the other surreal imagery he had seen over his long week. His gaze fell onto Judy's parents, and he smiled widely, keeping his lips tightly sealed. "It's nice to finally meet you two."

"It's - uh…" Judy's father said, his voice trailing off as he tried to find the words. He wore simple overalls over a plain t-shirt, and atop his head sat a beaten old cap. Giving a sideways look at the rabbit hanging on his arm, who was smiling softly at the fox, he snapped back to look at Nick. "It's nice to finally meet you, too." Judy's father seemed to chew on this inside of his cheek as he traded his vision between the fox and his daughter, who had just passed the curtain of water. "Judy has told us a lot about you."

Nick chuckled, waving his paw dismissively through the air. "It's all slander and lies, I can assure you," he said cheerfully. The fox's eyes fell onto Judy's father, and he took a calculated step forward, raising his arm to shake the older bunny's paw. "I have to say that you've raised a fantastic daughter, sir."

Judy's father looked at the raised paw lamely, not really sure what to do. After a moment, with Nick still smiling broadly and refusing to drop his arm, her mother elbowed her mate in the side, causing him to sputter and quickly extend his own arm to return the gesture. "T-thank you…" he stammered back, forcing a smile on across his muzzle. "Mr. Wilde."

Breaking contact, Nick held up his paws in surrender, closing his eyes for effect. "Please," he replied easily, relaxing back into his normal posture slowly. "My father was 'Mr. Wilde'. Call me Nick." His eyes fell onto the doe hanging off her mate, and he held out his paw again in greeting. She looked to hesitate for a moment, before stretching out her padless paw to grasp his relatively enormous paw with her own. Just as soon as they met, however, Nick twisted her wrist to the side so that her palm faced the ground, and leaned far over with his muzzle closing the distance between him and her knuckles.

A sharp breath of air could be sucked in by almost every rabbit within hearing distance as he kissed her knuckles, but the one he heard the most was just to his side, and sounded more like livid anger instead of surprise. It made the smile he had plaster on his face even wider as he looked back up at the older doe. "I have to say that painting does you no justice, Mrs. Hopps," he said fondly, employing every bit of an amorous tone he could muster. "You are _far_ more beautiful in person."

"Okay!" Judy shouted, making everyone except Nick look at her. Slowly, his smug, lidded eyes trailed behind to see her giving him a dangerous glare, her bottom lip stuck out in a pout. She took a step forward and grabbed Nick by his tie, pulling him along with her. The way she stuck her twitching nose up into the air away from him made him think she was mad, but through his highly amused state he couldn't _imagine_ why that would be. Judy stopped just short of the crowd of smaller rabbits. "So, this is the _friend_ I've been telling you all about," she said through a gritted smile waving her free paw back and forth once she let go of his tie. "Everybody, this is Nick. Nick, this is everybody."

Nick raised his paw and waved. "Nice to meet you all," he said loudly so that they would all hear. To his surprise, none of the shinked or twitched in fright, instead they all stared at him with scrutinizing eyes. The air was still for a moment, and he was beginning to wonder if he would have prefered them all running for the hills. After some seconds had passed, a few of them exchanged looks before they all exploded into noise, asking questions and shooting out remarks in a wall of noise that made the fox's sensitive ears swivel back on his head.

"Is it really true that you and Judy arrested the mayor of Zootopia?" one of the asked incredulously, crossing his arms.

Another turned to the young doe next to her to address her question to her, though Nick still plainly heard it. "Do all foxes dress like they're blind?"

"How come you guys hugged like that?" another asked, bouncing up and down in the middle of the crowd with his hand raised so that he could be seen.

A tiny rabbit in the front stuck her paws into her golden cheeks as she gawked in amazement. "Your tail is _huge_!"

"How did you meet Judy?" one of the parents asked from the back of the mass of tall ears.

"Is it true that you eat bugs?" another asked, his face scrunching up in disgust as he stuck out his tongue.

One does crossed her arms across her chest with a look of disappointment. "I thought he would be taller."

Judy's father stepped up beside Nick, raising both of his paws into the air. "Now, kids," he hollered over the commotion, causing the fifty tiny voices to slow into a soft murmur. The older buck waved his paw at the fox with one paw while hooking the other on his overalls as he addressed the mass. "Nick here just arrived after a very long trip. Give him some room to breathe, why don't ya?"

Chuckling, Nick placed a paw on the buck's shoulder, causing him to look up at the fox. "It's all good, Mr. Hopps," he said with a wink, removing his paw to take a step towards the crowd. Nick pointed to the bunny that asked the first question. "Yes and no, we are the reason she's in jail, but we did not have the pleasure of slapping the cuffs on her." He pointed at the doe that had addressed her question to the other doe next to her. "Only the ones with a great fashion sense." After that, he shot off the answers to the kit's question in rapid succession, his paw never dropping back to his side as he pointed to each one of them.

"Because we're good friends," he replied to where he thought the small rabbit had disappeared below the rest of the lapins. Nick looked at the golden doe at the very front, beaming up at him with a toothy smile. Smiling softly back, he gave her a swish of his tail. "Thank you." His eyes snapped upwards to meet the gaze of the parent in the back, waving his paw next to him at Judy. "We met in an ice cream parlor, and she bought me a popsicle." Nick looked at the kit who had scrunched his face up in disgust at the mere thought of insects. "Yes it is, but don't tell anyone; it's a secret."

Finally his eyes dropped onto the disappointed little doe who was still regarding him with lidded eyes. "And I thought you would be shorter," he replied easily, tilting his head to the side. "Isn't this a nice surprise for everyone?"

Judy's mother cleared her throat, causing the fox to turn slowly around to look at her nervous expression. "So…" she said slowly, her voice trailing off. "Mr W-" The doe cut herself off as she stared at the fox. "Nick…" She gave the buck she was with a sideways look for support, and he nodded at her. "We just, Stu and I - that is - wanted to say thanks." She looked into the fox's eyes deeply, and Nick found himself understanding where Judy got her brilliant pools of lavender. "For being there with Judy when she was in trouble."

The older doe elbowed Judy's father promptly, passing off the speech to him with a timid expression. "What?" he asked, looking over at his mate. The look she gave him brought realization over his face. "Oh!" He turned to look at the fox, who was silently observing the exchange. "Yes, we are in your debt. We wouldn't have known what to do if she got hurt any worse than she did."

Nick waved his paw through the air dismissively again. "It was no big deal," he said, brushing off the praise. "I probably owe her a lot more than that."

The buck's face became firmer as he pursed his lips in thought. "Well," he replied firmly, hooking both of his paws on his overalls. "If you don't mind me saying so, we think it _was_ a big deal." He brought one of his paws out to wag one of his fingers at the larger mammal. "You're not a police officer like our little girl, and you didn't have to do what you did."

"That's right," Judy's mother said, placing her paw on her mate's arm with a soft smile. "It's not everyday you find someone so willing to risk life and limb without expecting anything out of it."

"Jude here has told me that you're a real straight shooter," Judy's father continued, and Nick kept at his activity of switching between looking at either one of the older rabbits. "And I for one believe it." He smiled at the doe beside the fox, who held a strained smile on her face since the conversation had begun. "She's one of the best judges of character I know," he said, looking back into the fox's eyes and waving his paw at Judy. "And I bet she wouldn't think so highly of you if you weren't every bit the mammal she's told us about."

Nick's smile had diminished considerably as he did not know how to react to their words. His brow furrowed for a brief moment before his smile returned to him. "Well," Nick replied reflectively, jerking his head to the side in deliberation. "I'm not perfect, Mr. H-"

"Call me Stu," the older buck said, cutting him off.

The fox smiled at him easily, nodding his head. "I'm not perfect, Stu," he said, taking the opportunity to glance over at the unbalanced doe. She was staring up at him with an unreadable expression, but he could see it in her eyes that she was silently reprimanding him for his behavior, which just made his smile wider. "But II bu guess your daughter just has a way of bringing out the best in all of us."

Judy's mother smiled warmly at that, placing the paw she didn't rest on her mate's arm on her heart. "She sure does," she replied lovingly. The moment of silence between all of them dragged on for a few seconds, and despite himself he felt relaxed in the presence of the hoard of rabbits. He glanced over to the mob, watching them converse amongst themselves since they had been absorbed in the smaller conversation between each other. "So," the older doe said, prompting the fox to glance back at her with raised eyebrows and a genuine smile. "You said you two met in an ice cream parlor? How did that happen?"

Nick chuckled, looking back over at Judy. "That's actually a pretty interesting story," he replied, watching the doe narrow her eyes at him. The fox turned back to her parents, completely prepared to tell the tale of how they met. "You see, me and my buddy Finnick-"

"I hate to break this up," Judy said, cutting Nick off with a noticeable edge to her tone. The fox glanced back over to her with his smug, lidded eyes to watch her hook her free thumb towards the train. "But the train will be leaving soon." She looked up into the fox's eyes and waved he paw towards the parking lot on the other side of the train station. "Nick, could you go help Hare with my luggage?"

Cocking an eyebrow, he glanced out into the parking lot before looking around the space below the overhang. "Is it still in the truck?" he asked, turning his eyes back down at the bunny next to him. He saw her foot begin to tap rapidly across the bricks of the platform, and she gave him another strained smile, one that covertly projected her agitation.

"Yeah," she replied, placing her free paw on the small of his back to begin pushing him in that direction. "We just got here and he said he's be over with it after he was done smoking."

Judy's mother clutched her paw over her heart, giving Nick a look. "Dreadful habit, really," she said resolutely. "I wish he would quit."

Stu chuckled as he hooked his paws back onto the suspenders of his overalls. "Now, Bonnie," he replied, rolling his eyes at his mate. "If the boy wants to turn his lungs into coal to match his liver, let him do it."

Bonnie gaped at her husband. "Stu!" she hissed, furrowing her brow at him.

"What?" he asked, keeping his thumbs hooked in the suspenders but facing his padless palms outward in surrender. "He's an adult - he can make his own decisions."

Judy continued to push Nick along, and he met her effort by leaning into her paw as he slowly moved with it. "The train is probably leaving soon," she said, giving one final shove to the fox who merely stuck his own paws in his pocket and turned to look at her. "So, Nick if you could be quick?"

Chuckling, Nick watched her with his lidded eyes as he backed away from the three rabbits. "Sure," he replied happily, glancing over at her parents. "I'll be right back."

Nick turned abruptly, spinning around in a way that made his tail swish behind him, and walked through the curtain of falling water back into the rain. His usual leisurely stroll was quickened by the fact that the train wouldn't be staying for long. He looked over his shoulder to see a couple beavers in maintenance uniforms dragging a heavy industrial hose from embedded metal hatch in the bricks, housing a subterranean diesel tank underneath, towards the train. The newest models were predominantly electric, but they also held hybrid engines for when it became impractical to stretch powerlines across the entire railway out of Zootopia.

Turning back to hurry his pace towards the rusting blue truck he could see in the distance, his ears pivoted on his head when he heard the faint voice of Judy's mother. _"Why does he dress like that?"_ she asked her daughter. Nick glanced over his shoulder to see Judy shrugging her shoulders.

Stu just looked plainly at them both, as if he had missed some sort of joke. His brow furrowed in confusion. _"What's wrong with what he's wearing?"_ he asked, and received subsequent eyerolls and groans from both of the does in front of him. Stu looked taken aback by this and threw his paws up in a shoulderless shrug. _"What?"_

Nick chuckled to himself as he turned back around, making his way down a few concrete steps that connected with the blacktop of the parking lot, and continued to saunter his way over to the truck. It was raining pretty hard, and his shoulders had already been thoroughly drenched, but even when cascaded by a gray, overcast sky the countryside was still a sight to see. Beyond the stocky, rabbit sized buildings of Bunnyburrow, he could see fields of golden crops and oak stretching for miles in every direction. The station was on the very edge of town, and looking to his left, he saw a meadow of tall grasses stretch far into the distance, culminating around an enormous knoll with a single magnificent oak tree that looked over the entire town.

All in all, he thought that it was a beautiful place. The nature he had grown used to was the angry growth of the southwest side and the chaotic lushness of the Rainforest district. Nick supposed it was nice to see the tranquil side of nature - the side that did not have to fight and claw back the land taken from it. It was really as if the sleepy town lived in harmony with the land around it, and it made him sort of realize how Judy might have assumed it wasn't so different in the city. Unfortunately, though, it was never that simple; but that did not stop him from appreciating the sight - however fleeting it may have been.

Arriving at the back of the rusting blue truck, he quickly glimpsed into the bed, seeing it had been covered by a wrinkled tarp, bungeed down to the wheel wells. Nick looked through the back window of the truck and saw a pair of peppered grey ears poking into view front the driver's seat. Slowly, the fox made his way around the blue truck to peer into the cab, seeing that the windows had been left rolled down. Hare was sitting in the driver's seat, head leaned back into the seat with his eyes closed, a lit cigarette held in his open mouth between his massive incisors.

Nick watched the rabbit bring up a paw to grab hold of the burning bundle of fibers, closing his lips around the filter to take a long drag off of it, making the embers burn brighter as it crept down its length. Hare sucked in a sharp breath after pulling the cigarette from his muzzle, holding it in for a moment only to blow the huge collection of smoke out into the cab, the dusky cloud billowing out in every direction. Nick's nose scrunched at the horrible smell, and he mocked a coughing fit as he waved his paw in front of his nose, making Hare open his eyes and look over at the fox as he returned his cigarette to his mouth.

"Hare Hopps!" Nick chirped lazily, playing up his waving away of the smoke. "Where's that drink you promised me?" He was wearing a cotton canvas jacket over a light grey hoodie, his beaten carpenter jeans looking even more patchy than the last time he saw them.

Hare's eyes glided down to Nick's bright pink shirt and teal tie, the cigarette barely hanging onto his lips as they hung partially open. His eyes shot back up to the green orbs of the fox with a cocked eyebrow. "What in the hell are you wearing?"

Nick snorted at him. "They're called clothes, Smokestack," he replied, generating Hare's other eyebrow to meet the one already raised up on his forehead. The fox jerked his head back to the platform as he hooked his thumb in the same direction. "Didn't you see the train coming in?" he asked, leaning into the open window of the cab on his elbows.

"Hard to miss," he replied plainly, taking another drag of his cigarette with a blank expression.

The fox's emerald eyes narrowed at the rabbit still sitting in the driver's seat of the truck, regarding him with an air of indifference. "Well," Nick drawled out, rolling his head around his neck. "What are you doing sitting around? You are making us late for the train."

Hare shrugged. "Judy told me to wait here with her stuff."

Nick matched his impassive gaze for a moment, searching his eyes. "That's not what she told me," he replied flatly.

"I imagine it was insurance," Hare replied, leaning over the bench seat to reach for the window crank. "Just in case y'all got at each other's throats." Hare started cranking the window up while Nick was still leaning into the cab, making him push off the vehicle to watch the rabbit roll it up the rest of the way.

"Sly as always," Nick mumbled under his breath, watching Hare roll up his own window. When he was done, he popped open the driver side door with the old metal creaking, and hopped out into the rain before slamming it behind him. They both made their way towards the back of the truck on either side, Hare flicking his finished butt into the soaking parking lot. Reaching the back of the truck, the rabbit smoothed down his ears with one paw as he flung up his hood with the other, shielding his head from the falling water. Wasting no time, he grabbed onto a jumbled mess of clips and pieces of wire where a handle used to be and popped the tailgate with the caption _'Hopps Family Farm'_ written across it.

The rectangular piece of metal clunked free and screeched as it fell down flat. Just inside the tarped-up bed was a green and white suitcase with small carrots cross-stitched onto either side, an orange umbrella fastened to the top of it. Nick retrieved the umbrella and turned it away from the truck, pushing up on the mechanism to unfold the orange pattern with the white and blue tip. Holding it above himself, he grabbed the suitcase and turned back to the buck looking very pleased to be out of the rain. "Is this it?" he asked, wiggling the umbrella back and forth above himself.

Hare shook his head. "No," he replied, reaching into the bed to pull out a wicker basket with a tall, looping handle full of blueberries. Nick's eyebrows rose up on his forehead as he stared at the basket, genuinely surprised Judy had remembered it. "There's this," Hare said, gesturing at the basket with his paw and capturing the fox's attention. He looked up at Nick with a sideways glance, stuffing one of his paws into the inside of his jacket. "And this." Hare brought his paw back into view holding a shiny metal flask.

Nick's eyebrows rose higher as he stared at the flask in the rabbit's paw. Looking up at the buck, he sat the suitcase back down onto the bed. Hare unscrewed the flask and handed it over to the fox, who took it without question. "So it was on you?" he asked, referencing the deal they had made the last time they had seen each other.

"So it was," Hare replied, watching Nick tip the flask up in front of his muzzle, taking a drink. The smooth liquid had faint hints of cherries and spices, flavored well with the subtle traces of oak and sweet honey. Nick immediately recognized it as bourbon of some variety, but beyond that he couldn't begin to guess. He had found it useful to be knowledgeable in types of wines to aid in a number of high-class hustles, but distinguishing the stuff he actually drank never really concerned him.

After taking the swig, Nick pulled the flask away from his muzzle with a loud, smacking exhale. "What's the occasion?" he asked, handing it over to the buck who took a drink himself.

"I figured if I was in your position, I would want it," he replied, screwing the lid back on and replacing it back into the inside of his jacket. Hare looked up at the fox with an amused expression. "It's not everyday you're on the front page of the paper like that."

Nick groaned and rolled his eyes, hooking his elbow under the wicker basket's handle before picking up the suitcase. "You saw that too, huh?" he asked, shooting a sideways look at the rabbit with his ears tilted back.

"Everybody in the house has," Hare replied, shutting the tailgate loudly after he had retrieved everything. He turned and slowly made his way towards the platform, Nick in tow. "Someone's been printing out the picture of you two and pinning it up all around. With some added touches, of course."

Scoffing, the fox, glanced around the parking lot absently. It was quite full, and he had a feeling the majority of the vans and cars with rabbit likenesses belong to just one family. It was no wonder such a small trail station had such an enormous parking lot. "Oh, good," he said dryly, unable to keep the sarcasm in his tone at a reasonable level.

Hare chuckled at that. "What?" he asked, looking over his shoulder to give him a smug, toothy grin. "Ain't it flatterin' to be my sister's _foxy_ friend?"

Nick just stared back at him blankly. "I'm never going to live that one down."

"Hopefully not," he chirped back, turning away from the fox to return his eyes to the approaching platform, where a mob of rabbits still stood, their low, murmuring voices barely audible above the pelting rain. "How were the folks?" Hare finally asked just before they reached the steps.

"Fine," Nick replied, following him up the concrete. "Surprisingly agreeable." The rain pattered off the plastic covering of the umbrella loudly above him, and Nick adjusted the weight he was carrying on his other arm.

Hare glanced at him with a cocked eyebrow. "You're surprised?"

Nodding at the smaller mammal, Nick glanced over the crowed to see if he could spot Judy yet. Having no such luck, he looked back down at Hare. "With you telling me how he bought her the whole catalogue of Fox away stuff, including a taser, just a few months ago…" Nick's voice tapered off as he rolled his head around his shoulders. After a moment of thought he nodded again at the rabbit. "Yeah, I was a little surprised."

"Oh?" he asked, turning around so that he was walking backwards and stuffing one of his paws into the inside of his jacket. "You mean this bad boy?" When the buck pulled out his paw just enough to reveal the pink electronic in his grasp, Nick's ears splayed backwards on his head. Hare wiggled the device around in the inside of his jacket, smiling impishly at the fox. "Dad asked me to carry it 'just in case'," he said, stuffing it back down into his clothes and turning around to walk straight. "Judy doesn't know."

Nick chewed on the inside of his lip in thought. He honestly expected her father to harbor sentiments of that variety, but that did not make the confirmation any less biting. He had seemed nice enough, but he supposed that's just the thing about it. Hating foxes was so ingrained into mammals that you didn't have to be hateful to not like them. "For both you and your father's sake," he replied nasally. "I hope she never finds out. I think she threatened 'a world of pain' just a few moments ago."

Hare chuckled lazily as the rounded the edge of the large crowd of bunnies. "I'll keep it on the down low, then," he said flatly. The first thing the two mammals saw when Judy and her parents came into view was her jabbing a finger into her father's chest, an expression of unmitigated disdain plastered over face. She was saying something in a rough tone to him, but it looked like Stu was standing his ground in some respect, not shrinking away from the aggressive jabbing. From where they stood, it looked like Bonnie was trying to get them to stop fighting, pressing herself between them with a worried look written over her lavender eyes.

"Ooh, boy," Hare said, whistling at the sight of the heated disagreement. Nick could only guess what it was about, but something in his mind figured it probably had something to do with him, which was not a great feeling. Stu may have some less than trusting beliefs when it came to generalizations, but he didn't believe it should cause Judy to fight with him. Hare stuck out his paw to stop Nick from continuing. "I think you should hang back for a second," he said plainly, looking up into his eyes.

Nick shot a breath of air rapidly out of his snout, trading his cision between the buck and his immediate family. "That sounds like a smart idea, Hare," Nick replied dryly.

Watching the rabbit walk towards the commotion, Nick chewed on the inside of his cheeks in thought. It was another one of those moments of surreal imagery. He was standing on the platform in Bunnyburrow, holding a rabbit sized umbrella over his head, and watching a wounded bunny threaten her father openly in front of fifty other rabbits. The fox glanced over at the maintenance beavers, seeing they were still hard at work refueling the train before departure. Sooner or later he was going to have to get used to this kind of thing if it was going to continue, but the moments of quiet still made him think about how far he had come in a single week.

A sharp click made Nick's ears perk up, and he cocked an eyebrow back at the growing domestic disturbance case. Judy had clicked her tongue off her enormous buck teeth with such force that all three of the other bunnies, and quite a few of the younger rabbits in the crowd, to stare at her. She had a scowl plastered so deep on her face that it made Nick's ears lie prone on his head, and when hare took a step forward with an outstretched paw, her glare made him stop mid-stride, holding both of his paws up in surrender. Whatever had been said that had pissed her off, Nick wanted no part of it now.

She took an uneven step towards her brother and tore open his jacket, sticking her paw into his pockets. The first thing she brought out was his flask, which she forcefully shoved into his chest before returning to her task. The next thing she pulled from the inside of his jacket was the pink fox taser, and she swung it around so swiftly and with so force that when she stopped it just in front of her father's face, he reeled back in fright. Her scowl had grown into full grown fury, and Stu could do nothing but smile sheepishly at her, bring up both of his paws in quiet surrender.

Nick was about to intervene to tell Judy it wasn't that big of a deal, but he never took a step. Instead, he felt something latch onto his tail from behind him. Blinking, he tried to sway it back and forth, but found that it had been thoroughly grappled by something, though not in any painful way. Lifting his arm holding the umbrella up into the air, he looked underneath his armpit as he twisted his body around. Standing there, hugging his tail tightly, was the same golden kit that had been amazed by it earlier. She just beamed up at him with a toothy smile as she rubbed her cheek on the bushy appendage. "Well, hey there," Nick said with an easy smile.

"Hi," she replied happily, sticking her twitching nose into his tail and nuzzling it deeply.

Nick chuckled lightly allowing her to keep hold of his tail as he turned to face her, holding the umbrella slightly away from him to shield her from the rain. "What's your name?" he asked her, leaning over her.

She looked up into his friendly eyes with the most jubilant expression he had probably ever seen in his entire life. "Cotton."

"Well, miss Cotton," Nick said, sitting the suitcase on the ground followed by the wicker basket. "Did you know that you shouldn't go around grabbing fox's tails?" Nick still smiled easily at her, taking great care to keep his teeth out of sight from the tiny rabbit. "Some of us don't like that."

"Oh," she replied, her joyous expression being taken over by one of deep thought. Cotton loosened her grip on his tail reluctantly, still looking up at him. "Do you not like it?"

Nick thought for a moment. It wasn't a _bad_ feeling, but it also wasn't something that really happened. He couldn't really recall a single instance of someone grabbing his tail in a way that wasn't meant to piss him off in his entire life. "I can't say for sure," he replied softly, searching her eyes. "It's never really happened to me."

Cotton made on 'o' shape with her mouth, looking down at the appendage in her small paws. "It's just so fluffy," she said innocently, looking back up at him. "Can I do it for a little while longer?"

Nick chuckled lightly, giving the small bunny a careful nod of his head. "Go ahead, kiddo," he said, and no sooner than he did did she sqweel in delight and bury her face back into his fur. The fox her grip tighten as he glanced back up to the situation in front of him. Judy was now waving it dangerously close to her father with the metal barbs sticking ominously out towards him. "It looks like I've got time," Nick whispered, studying the scene.

Cotton pulled her face through the long bristly fur, to where it looked like her head was poking out of a patch of tall grass. "Do you know why they're fighting?" she asked with a strange expression. Nick looked down at her blankly, and she turned her eyes away as her ears dropped behind her head. "They're always fighting."

"Nah," Nick replied, waving away her concerns with his paw. He looked back at the heated argument only long enough to see Judy take a step back, wind up, and throw the fox taser so far out into the field that his eyebrows rose up onto his forehead. The arcing path must have soared almost twenty yards into the air before rounding back towards the ground, bouncing on the below the tall grass hard enough that it soared back into sight, tumbling through the air and kicking up dirt with it. Nick now found himself understanding why that small hit to the shoulder had left a bruise.

Nick tore his eyes back towards the tiny bunny burying herself into his tail. "They're not fighting," he said reassuringly. "I've seen fighting with my own two eyes, and that's not it." Nick pointed at the most inopportune time, as when he looked back, Judy was practically directly in her father's' face, jabbing her finger into his chest. The fox sucked in a shrill breath through his teeth, shaking his head slowly at the sight. When he looked back down at Cotton, he had stopped pointing and his paw gone to scratch the cream colored fur of his neck. "Point is, I'm sure they just disagree about something."

Cotton seemed to consider that for a moment before looked back up at Nick with curious eyes. "Isn't that what fighting is?"

Snorting in amusement, he glanced back over to the scene, thankfully seeing that Judy had backed off and just had her arms crossed over her chest as Stu tried to explains something to her. "Touché," he replied plainly.

"To-what?" she asked without looking at him, taking in a big inhale before stuffing her face into his tail and blowing.

The genuine smile that had been stolen from the fox's face was returning more and more thanks to the small kit that seemed so delighted just to mess with his tail. _Well_ , Nick thought, shrugging. _It's not like anyone else is using it_. "I just mean that you've got a point," he replied.

Cotton absorbed herself in her play, remaining fairly dry thanks to Nick continuing to hold the tiny umbrella over her. He, on the other paw, did not fit under the umbrella with the young kit, and was getting a healthy coating of water. The fox didn't mind it. Honestly, he thought this situation could very well have been a lot worse than it turned out, so he resigned himself to enjoying it despite its apparent faults. Cotton was the one to break the silence. "Oh," she said, making Nick turn towards her with a raised eyebrow. "Mr. fox?"

"What is it, kiddo?" he asked, seeing that she was really thinking about what she was going to say next.

Cotton looked up into his emerald eyes with her own dull green orbs, and a toothy smile revealing all of her baby teeth split her face. She nuzzled her face back into his tail as she looked at him. "Thank you for making Judy happy," she said simply.

Nick found himself at a loss for words. "What do you mean?" he asked her, his own expression growing curious.

She hummed at him, tightening her grip on his bushy appendage. "She was super sad when she came back, but when she's around you she looks really happy!" she chirped up at him, making the usually deliberate face of the fox slacken at her words. "So, thank you!"

Looking up in Judy's direction, he caught her rolling her eyes dramatically at her father's words, and this time Bonnie joined in in trying to defend her mate. "She does the same for me," Nick whispered back, his expression unreadable. "So it's all good."

"I like your shirt!" she called up to him, pulling him from his thoughts to look back down at the kit.

Another genuine smile curled its way up the fox's lips and he looked down at what she was wearing. Her pink dress was fluffy around the skirt, layered in flaps of a lighter material. "I like yours," he replied with a smile, making her beam even brighter up at him.

Suddenly her grip around his tail slackened as a thought crossed her mind. "Can I have a ride?" she asked, barely keeping in her excitement. "On your shoulders?" Cotton removed one of her small paws from her tail so she could point up at the fox's shoulder, hopping in place. "Judy lets me do it all the time, and I want to be really far off the ground!"

Nick was not convinced, and shot a worried glance over in the direction of the argument still taking place. Hare was looking at him with a cocked eyebrow. "I'm not sure if they'd like that," Nick replied to her, tapping his shoulder in a gesture towards the buck watching him. Hare's other eyebrow met the first, and he shrugged before pointing back towards the group of rabbits. One of the adults was staring at him, who happened to be the bunny that Hare had pointed at, and he repeated the gesture, tapping his shoulder in a questioning way. The doe smiled at him warmly and nodded her head.

"Please?" Cotton asked, clasping her paws together to beg.

Powerless to stop the chuckle that found its way through his muzzle, he nodded his head. "Alright, little missy," he agreed, and she immediately jumped into the air, overjoyed. "But!" Nick stuck one of his clawed fingers into the air, capturing her attention before pointing it at her accusingly. "You've got to promise you'll hold on tight."

She beamed up at him. "I promise." Cotton was so giddy her paws came together just in front of her chest as she chewed up on her lip.

Nick had to bite his tongue to keep from calling her cute, and place the umbrella carefully on the ground. Using both of his massive paws, he picked her up from underneath her shoulders. "Alley-oop!" Nick said, lifting her swiftly up and over his head as he turned her around to sit comfortably on his shoulder, Cotton giggling cheerfully all the way up. When she was situated around his neck safely, he brought his large fingers up to grab onto her tiny paws, guiding them towards the sides of his head. "Now hold on tight to those ears up there, you got it?" he asked, letting go of her paws go just next to his knife-like ears.

"I got it!" she chirped back, grabbing hold of the edge of his ears firmly, though not with enough force to hurt. Cotton giggled when she did so, rubbing her fingers into his ears to feel them. "They're so fuzzy!"

Nick chuckled back at her, and picked up the umbrella again, bringing it over the kit on his shoulders. "Why don't we go see what they're disagreeing about," he offered, bending at the knees to hook his elbow underneath the wicker basket's handle before grabbing the suitcase. "Maybe we'll be able to help. What do you say?"

"Sure!" she said, moving his ears back and forth on his head playfully.

Smiling wider than he thought reasonable, he sauntered over to the argument that was still taking place, only this time seeing Hare shaking his head with the ghost of a smile. Nick stepped through the curtain of water and into the respite of the overhang, beaming at Judy when she looked over at him. Her distasteful expression dropped over her face instantly when her amethyst eyes shot up to the top of his head, where Cotton had taken to pulling his ears all the way back to drape over her shoulders. Bonnie was the next to see it, and she brought up a paw to her mouth, trying to hide the soft smile that captured her features.

Nick came to a stop right in front of the group of rabbit, but put on an expression of distress. "Mrs. Hopps," he said, worry laced throughout his tone. "I don't mean to alarm you, but I think you're short one kit." He turned around to look at the mass of rabbits with wide eyes. "I have no idea where the golden one in the pink dress went." Cotton giggled breathily from atop his head, and she brought his ears together to hide herself, playing along.

Judy shook her head, and no matter how much she tried, she couldn't stop the smile that came to her. "You're incorrigible, Nick."

"This is no laughing matter, Carrots," he said, mocking panic. "She could be anywhere."

Bonnie and Stu exchanged a look at the nickname, but did not have the chance to voice any opinion as Cotton spoke up. "You call Judy 'Carrots'?" she asked, standing up on his shoulders so she could lean over his head to look into his eyes.

"Oh," Nick said, looking up into the green eyes of the bunny her her paws firmly planted on his forehead to support herself. "There you are." Nick smiled at her broadly, his eyes growing lidded as he looked at her. "I thought I lost you."

Cotton was not going along with it anymore, though, as her attention had been captured by something else. "Call me something!" she demanded with a gleeful rise in her voice.

"Come up with a nickname on the spot?" Nick asked, cocking an eyebrow so that it came in contact with one of her tiny paws. "When your name is already Cotton?" he hummed thoughtfully at her, mocking deliberation. "You ask too much of me."

"Come on!" she pleaded, flopping down onto his head so she could grab onto his cheekbones on either side of his eyes. "Please?"

Nick chuckled, making the tiny rabbit bounce up and down on his head, giggling all the way. "Why don't I call you 'Baby Carrots'?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows in a way that moved her about, much to her amusement. Nick took on an uncharacteristically serious expression, peering into her dull green with his own piercing eyes. "It's a big responsibility, though," he informed her, his face relaxing back into his lidded amusement. "I only have room for two 'Carrots' in my life, and you have to promise me that you won't ever make me take it back."

"Of course! Of course!" she replied, beaming and jumping up and down on his head. Cotton looked over at Judy, who had been watching the exchange in both utter disbelief and hearty amusement. "Judy, did you hear?" she asked her. "We're both 'Carrots' now!"

Judy snorted loudly, making her way over to Nick. "You are a terrible influence," she said playfully, passing her crutch over to him. Nick took it carefully with the paw he had been using to hold up the umbrella, not having to protect himself from the rain anymore. "Come on," Judy said to Cotton, rounding behind the fox to grab the tiny kit by her sides. "Let's get you down from there." When she pulled, however, Cotton dug herself in, reaching as far as she could to grab hold of the corners of his lips. Judy inevitably pulled Nick backwards, seeing that Cotton had pulled the fox's lips apart completely, relieving the rows of sharp teeth to the world.

Nick stared at Judy upside-down, his teeth on full display thanks to the grasp Cotton still had on his lips, and he had bent over backwards as if he was trying to win a game of limbo. Judy just stared back at him, until the fox thought of wiggling his eyebrows at the doe, and her brow furrowed at him because of it. "Nick, don't make this harder than this has to be," she said carefully, pulling again on the kit that still had an iron grip on his lips. He actually bent further back, making her effort useless. Judy leaned in close to the fox, bringing her muzzle right next to his ear to growl into it. "I will tie your tail into a _knot_."

"No!" Cotton shrieked, pulling herself closer to the fox, and subsequently making his toothy display of white even wider. "Nick says you're not supposed to touch a fox's tail unless they say so, Judy!" she called out, making waves of laughter roll through the crowd just a few feet away.

"We really have to go," Judy insisted, her ears flopping limply back against her head as she tugged on the kit ineffectively. Nick let out a chuckle inches from her face as she struggled with the the young rabbit who had grabbed onto his cheeks like handles. She desperately looked over to the other three rabbits watching her lack of progress. "Come on, guys," she begged. "Help me out here?"

Bonnie stifled a laugh with her paw, smiling broadly at the scene in front of them. Even Stu had found himself amused at the spectacle. Worst of the lot was Hare, who had retrieved his cell phone from his pocket, unbeknownst to Judy, and started taking pictures. "You're doing fine, honey," Bonnie said lovingly, but the sight was too much to bear, and she closed her eyes to let out a fit a giggles.

"I want you and Nick to stay!" Cotton pleaded from her spot dangling in the air, her waist being grasped by Judy and her fingers digging into the fox's cheeks.

Judy groaned, pulling her again, and now the trio had begun taking steps backwards, prolonging the situation. "We've been over this, Cotton-"

"It's Baby Carrots!" she wailed, gripping even tighter.

"Oh, sweet cheese and crackers, Nick," Judy exasperatedly grumbled, pulling again on Cotton, only this time bringing her injured leg up to be planted on the small of his back to keep him from moving.

"Wha' id I oo?" he asked innocently, but he couldn't stop the fit of mirth that was escaping his muzzle.

Judy pulled Cotten towards her bringing the kit against her chest so she could glare into his amused eyes. "You are never meeting my family again," she whispered to him, which was probably a bad idea.

"No!" Cotton shrieked, digging her face into the top of Nick's head as she used all of her might to keep herself in place. "I'm never letting go!"

"Oh, Judy!" Bonnie finally said, lightly slapping the younger doe away from the whole ordeal. She stepped up behind the fox and hugged Cotton from behind as Judy slunk away crossing her arms in defeat. "Come on, honey," she urged in a loving tone. "The train will be leaving any minute now. They've got to go."

Cotton was on the verge of tears. "But Judy said Nick won't be coming back," she replied sadly, keeping her firm grip attached to his cheeks.

"Don't be silly," Bonnie replied. "Of course he's coming back." Cotton seemed to relax a little at that, and she looked up hopefully into her grandmother's eyes. "You'll see him again."

She sniffled as she looked back into Nick's upside-down eyes, who was still watching the whole thing. "Is that true, Nick?" she asked hopefully.

"O' oor's, 'iddo," Nick managed to say, attempting to smile even though he had no lips to work with.

Cotton let go, and Nick's cheeks loudly slung back into place. Straightening out, he felt his spine pop multiple times, and the blood rushing out of his head almost made him topple over if it weren't for Judy, who appeared at his side to steady him. "You deserve that," she grumbled up at him, and all Nick could do was chuckle at her lazily as she retrieved her crutches from his packed arms.

Bonnie appeared at his other side, and she placed her paw on his shoulder tenderly. "Don't listen to her, dear," she said happily, making Judy turn her nose up at the comment, and turn away from them as she resituated herself on her crutches. "You're welcome any time you want." The doe turned to look at her mate. "Isn't that right Stu?"

Stu's eyebrows rose up on his head as he blinked at his wife. "Huh?" he asked, before realization stuck him. "Oh, yeah! There's plenty of room in the warren," he reassured Nick with a genuine smile, one that almost immediately made the fox forgive him for the taser. He had forgiven Judy, after all. There was no reason he could extend the same faith in her family.

"Thank you," Nick said sincerely, smiling at both of them. "That means more than you could know."

Patting him on the shoulder, Bonnie returned to her husband's side. "It's the least we could do, dear," she said, returning the fox's smile with her own, though hers was quite a bit more soft than he could ever hope to achieve. "You two be safe now, you hear?"

Judy appeared back from behind the fox, and handed him her crutch, which Nick accepted without question, though with some difficulty. She jumped into a giant hug that encompassed both of her parents, nuzzling her face between them. "Bye, guys," she said happily, abandoning all of her agitation up until that time for what was more important. Judy kissed them both on their cheeks before pulling away slightly to look at them. "I love you."

Her mother patted her on the back. "We love you, too, sweetie," she replied.

Her father brought up his paw to pat her on the top of her head before dragging it down the length of her ears lovingly. "Catch you later, Jude the dude," he said with a wink.

Judy disentangled herself from her parents and back away. After a couple steps she turned to walk towards the train. When she did, however, Nick was giving her a broad smile with his eyebrows raised up on his forehead, making her already limp ears even limper. "Don't," she said sternly, retrieving her crutch from his grasp. The fox chewed on his lip to keep himself from making a comment, his eyes raising to meet the two older bunnies and the small kit standing at their feet. Meeting Cotton's eyes, he winked at her, making her giggle and wave back. Just as he was about to leave, he nodded at her parents, who both smiles and waved themselves.

Nick turned away from the hoard of rabbits and brought the umbrella back up above them as the prepared to make the journey to the train. Judy paused for a moment, taking in a deep breath. She looked up at him with searching eyes. Nick just stared back, a genuine smile plastered across his muzzle, and nodded. They passed through the curtain of water falling off the overhang and out into the rain, strolling over towards the orange locomotive. As they went, Nick held the umbrella out closer to Judy, keeping her dry even though half of him was still out in the element.

They boarded the steel ramp onto the train, looking back at the crowd of rabbits waving bye. Both the fox and bunny waved out to them, but Nick was the one to reply verbally. "See you next time, Hopps clan!" he shouted out over the platform to crowd huddled under the protection of the overhang.

"Don't eat our sister!" one of the shouted back.

"Jason!" Bonnie cried, snapping around to glare at the kit that shrunk away at his mother's gaze. "Why you little…" As the doors were closing, Nick could see the kit getting a head start out into the rain with his mother right at his heels. He couldn't help the smile on his face, feeling like he could help that a lot recently. His eyes did catch a small golden kit in a pink dress running out to wave feverishly. When the train jerked into motion, building up the momentum it needed to barrel down the tracks, Cotton ran after it, waving her paws through the air.

"Bye Judy! Bye Nick!" she yelled, and Stu jogged out into the rain after her. "I love you!" Both of them waved back, leaning into the glass of the door to keep sight of them for as long as possible until they were finally lost to the distance.

Taking a deep breath, Nick leaned back into his heels, sighing loudly. The whole ordeal had technically gone a lot better than he expected - which admittedly wasn't much - but regardless, it was a strain on his weary body. He couldn't bring himself to think it was a bad kind of strain, though. In fact, he was beginning to think he could get used to this. As alien as the the whole thing was to him, it was nice. It felt pretty good, even. Perhaps one day it could even be the norm, instead of slaving the night away breaking the law only to pretend like a decent person come daybreak. Nick really was hoping that would be the case. Maybe it could start right now.

Nick glanced over to the rabbit beside him, looking at her with his usual lidded smile. She was rubbing her elbow in thought as she stared at the rainy countryside beyond the window. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked her, causing her ears to snap upwards to their full height as she looked at him. He smiled even wider until her expression soured to that of distinct agitation.

"I tell you _one thing_ ," she seethed, turning up her nose at him and beginning to make her way to a seat. "Let me do the talking." Judy shot an accusatory glare over her shoulder, her nose twitching every limping step she made down the aisle. "And you completely ignore it and embarrass me in front of everyone! I can't believe you!"

They garnered the attention of the other passengers, who had been waiting patiently inside the train as it was being refueled. "It's good to see you, too, Carrots," Nick drawled as he followed behind her, smiling impishly as he did. The other passengers exchanged sideways looks as they went, though neither of them paid them any mind. "Oh, come on," he called after her playfully when she didn't respond, her nose still turned upwards. "It all worked out okay in the end, right?" Again, Judy didn't respond, instead opting to quicken her pace away from the fox, which he matched with ease, even with the notable load he was carrying.

A thought crossed his mind when she continued to ignore him, and he jogged up to be right behind her. Leaning over her shoulder, he looked at her from the corner of his eyes, but she turned her head in the other direction. "Are you giving me the silent treatment?" he asked, his smile growing every second, but she still didn't respond. "You are!" Nick straightened up and looked at her erect ears sway as she limped. "Don't you think you're being a tad bit dramatic, Fluff?" he asked, Judy still ignoring him. With a hearty chuckle, he raised what he could of his arms into the air in surrender. "Okay. You win."

Nick followed her to their seats silently, though an enormous, dopey smile still curled his lips upwards. Shimmying sideways, Judy slid into a medium bench seat, pressing herself against the wall to look out the window as she leaned her crutch into the back of the seat in front of them. Nick, feeling grateful that he could finally lighten his load, sat the suitcase down onto the floor and tiredly planted the wicker basket in the middle of the padded, green seat. Groaning in delight at the fact that he was sitting down, he felt again just how tired he was and slid his paws down his long muzzle.

He let the gravity acting on his muzzle tilt it towards the rabbit sitting next to him, who was watching the countryside roll by without acknowledging him. Despite how pissed off she was, he was elated that she was sitting next to him. Nick chuckled at the sight before sighing, relaxing into the padded bench seat. "You do realize that isn't going to work, right?" he asked closing the eye that wasn't watching her. "I'm happy just being around you, even if you are pissed off at me."

The air between them was quiet for a moment, but soon Judy tightly shut her eyes to the view. "So, you're saying I would have to leave you to make my point?" she asked sternly, though he could hear hints of her amusement breaking through her wall of pretending to be mad.

"Nope," he replied instantly, watching her turn to look at him. "I'd hunt you down and make you be my friend again."

Judy snorted in amusement, he facade of anger falling away instantly. She giggled breathily, making the fox's smile shrink in volume but grown in sincerity. "That's not a very sensitive thing to say to a bunny," she said, punching him lightly in the arm.

Nick hummed, closing both of his eyes to the world around him. "Then it's a good thing that I'm not a very sensitive guy."

Laughing at the fox's words, she stole a blueberry from the basket between them. "We'll see about that, Slick," she said in a sing-song voice, making him drowsily open one of his eyes to scrutinize her. "You're good with kits, after all." Nick opened both of his eyes and turned his head to watched her flick the berries into her open mouth. "Who knows? Maybe the hardened conmammal is really just a big, plushy marshmallow on the inside."

A sharp exhale left the fox's nose as he cocked an eyebrow at her. "You make me want to hit something to prove my masculinity," he replied playfully.

Judy stuck her nose back up and looked out the window, lowering her tone to one of stern factuality. "I'd have to arrest you," she said simply, thought a smile did come back to her as when she look at him through the corner of her eye.

Nick chuckled, turning back ahead to close his eyes again. "I love it when you threaten me with incarceration."

"Maybe it's the only thing that'll teach you some manners," she replied.

The fox's eyebrows rose up on his head, though his eyes remained shut. "You should try asking nicely," he suggested.

It was quiet for awhile after that. It felt like to Nick that his lack of rest might be catching up to him, and he sat back upright, blinking the yearn for sleep away. The train had returned to its cruising speed, flying through the simple oaken nature and grassy fields just outside the city before the never ending stretches of farmland began. He glanced through the window they shared, seeing Judy smile warmly out of it. It would likely be the last time in awhile she would see this place. She abruptly turned to meet the fox's gaze, surprising him when her warm smile grew warmer as she looked at him. "Thanks Nick," she said softly.

He blinked at her. "For what?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

Judy scooted closer to him and brought her paw up to rest on his arm. Nick found himself lost in her eyes the closer she got to him, and words failed him in his search for something witty to say. "Being you," she replied, her own lavender eyes staring up at him joyously.

He didn't know what to say - partially because he had been stunned by her gaze, but also because he just honestly did not know how to respond. So, he spoke the first thing that can to mind. "Nobody has ever thanked me for that before," he said lamely, his brow furrowing on his forehead.

"Well, nobody knows how to appreciate a good thing," she replied, not a hint of a joke in her tone. "So, hear it from me first." Judy got even closer to him, and grabbed onto his head with both of her paws. She guided him down slowly, wrapping her smaller arms around his neck tightly as she pulled him into a hug. For a moment, Nick did not know what to do. Slowly, he brought up his own paws to return her hug. "Thanks," she whispered into the fur of his neck, and the fox felt a feeling he did not recognize. He felt his jaw slacker and his ears lay flat on his head in his moment of disbelief, but soon he pulled her in tighter, wrapping his muzzle down her back.

It was some time until they separated, both looking into each other's eyes warmly. After what felt like a long moment, Nick brought up his paw again and ruffled his paw across the top of her head, causing her to close her eyes tightly with a broad smile still occupying her face. "Dumb bunny," he said, the base of her ears catching between his fingers as he ruffled to top of her head, and he simply followed suit by running his rough pads over her ears to rest on her back.

Judy opened up her deep amethyst eyes to him, smiling more radiantly than he had ever seen her before. Her eyes grew lidded as she looked at him and she cocked her head to the side. "Sly fox," she replied back in a playful tone.

Nick laughed, pulling her back into the hug so he could attack her weak points. Judy shrieked in amusement when he dug his fingers into her sides, feeling her writhe in his strong grasp. She couldn't stop the giggles that escaped her and shot a paw up to grab onto his long snout, pressing her padless palm directly into his nose. Nick almost passed out on the spot when his world had been enveloped by Judy, her sight, her sound, her smell. Nick sucked in a breath, and for the first time since he was only a child, it actually _felt_ like he was breathing. He wasn't gasping for air while struggling to not drown anymore, he was _breathing_. He was _free_.


	21. Let's go home (end)

3:31 pm, September 18th

* * *

Something felt right, which was decidedly wrong; nothing was ever right. It started, unlike so many other times, with a gentle drift into perception. It was true that there was nothing to see - nothing but a void of darkness - as Nick felt himself float, but despite the weightlessness of his body, he could not find it in himself to believe it was urgent to open his eyes, to see where he was or what made him feel so light. Instead, he happily allowed himself to wallow in the feeling. It was not unlike the hot-spring baths in Koslov's Palace, enveloping him in a cradling warmth that forced his muscles to relax.

Perhaps a younger version of the fox, even by just a couple weeks, would have felt himself flung into a panic at the relaxing sensation, recognizing how dangerous it was to feel such a way in the life he led. No such feeling took him, nor did it even cross his mind, as he continued to float through the warmth of the void. It far too comforting for his already weary mind to fight, and it guided him without resistance, filling him with a sense of belonging that rested unusually pleasant in his chest. It was like all worry had evaporated out of him, and all that was left was his body being carried along aimlessly by the invisible force of comfort.

Soon, Nick found himself recognizing his orientation, feeling like he was lying backwards against some intangible object, though still floating through the air. A part of him wanted to believe it would never end, but as the time dragged on, so did his drifting form float downwards. The first corporeal feeling that he was made aware of was of him sinking into something soft beneath him, followed by something rigid coming up to press itself into his back, propping him up into a sitting position. As he settled into the newfound notion of sitting down, Nick found his environment becoming clearer by the second, the most substantial feeling being the dull warmth pressed into his side and chest.

Over a long period of time, distinct sounds began to emerge from the void around him. Soft and muffled at first, they grew into steady rhythms, filling the fox's pointy ears with the sounds of the ocean. The waves cascaded down onto the shoreline a very short distance away, retreating away only to come back again in an endless tempo of gentle sound. From where he lie, the sounds of long, fibrous leaves swaying in the cool air played like a melody above him. Everything was reminiscent in a way that made him immediately think he was lying on the beach, though with how brisk the ocean air became as his mind cleared, it could not have been day.

Through his eyelids, a faint blue glow faded into existence, finally bringing to an end the illusion of a void, and replacing it with the realistic perception of a seashore treeline bathed in the cold light of the moon. Nick's eyes parted drowsily, and the fox found his vision filled with the breathtaking view of the night's sky. Stars of all sizes shimmered against the dark blue background, the full moon shining brightly down on him. It was as if there was no light in the world, and he could see the beautiful sight unobstructed by the pollution of society. With his sensitive eyes, he could see the whole environment in crisp, sapphire-tinted clarity.

The beach that Nick found himself on was unbelievably tropical; white sand, towering palms, and the ocean stretching in every direction filled his sight. He became immediately aware that the rigid object he was leaning against was the base of an enormous palm, and he could feel the trunk bow with the force of the wind, swaying above him. Feeling curious, he lowered his eyes down towards his side, wondering what could be the source of the warmth still buried in his side. To his surprise, to was Judy, sleeping happily against him, wearing a billowy white blouse and denim shorts against his rough, flowery collar shirt and turquoise trunks.

As if roused by his studying eyes, she moaned into his side, rolling her head around to look up at him lazily. She was sitting right next tim him under the gigantic palm, but all her weight had been bestowed upon his side, and her arms had wrapped around his chest as far as they could go in her slumber. A sleepy smile stretched up to her lidded eyes, matching the fox's similar expression. "You look like you slept well," Nick commented, chuckling at her.

Judy hummed, turning back into him. "You're one to talk," she replied breathily.

Nick's nose absently lowed to the top of her head as he watched her, and his snout found itself buried into her crown, causing her to giggle at him. "Quit it, you dumb fox," she said, not sounding the slightest bit serious in her demand, spurring Nick into nuzzling into her further. "If someone sees us they are going to think something weird."

Pulling away slightly to look at her, Nick cocked an eyebrow. "Who's going to see us out here, Carrots?" he asked. Forcing himself to look away, he studied his surrounding only to find that he was still nestled in a tropical treeline facing the ocean. There were no signs of civilization around, and he really didn't think there were mammals squatting in the brush, spying on them. "We've got the whole beach to ourselves," Nick said sluggishly, looking back down at the rabbit draped over his chest.

"Beach?" Judy's head turned against him again, and she looked up at him inquisitively, her eyebrows tinted up on her forehead in amusement. "What are you talking about?"

Nick's smile diminished slightly as she studied him. His head rose up to look around, doubt coming to his mind. "The beach that we're on?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Giggling into his side, a smile split the doe's face as she closed her eyes. "Oh, sweet cheese and crackers," Judy replied, only barely being able get the words out as she laughed. "Earth to Nick!" Suddenly, a disembodied force started patting him on the top of his head, making his ears swivel backwards as a frown stole away his lips. "It's time to wake up!"

Nick's eyes shot open, and his vision was filled with the polishes sheen of orange colored steel. Immediately, the gentle sounds of nature and the beach had been replaced by the trains loud bouncing on the tracks, and the high-pitched hum of the engines slicing the locomotive through the air. Feeling more than a little aware that he was staring at the wall of the train, his eyes shifted upwards to view the bottom edge of a passenger window, long streaks of rain rolling horizontally across the glass in the momentum. The next thing he became aware of was that he was resting his chin on his folder arms, which were propped up on an overturned, small suitcase with carrots sewn into the face.

He was lying across the entire padded bench seat, stretched flat over the green material and using the suitcase for a pillow. Suddenly, he felt the paw that had been resting on his head move, and a padless finger started twirling in circles around a tuft of his fur, a dull claw lightly scraping across his scalp. Nick hummed deeply at the motion, recognizing it immediately as Judy's absentmindedly restless behavior. His eyes slid back closed as he flopped his chin back down onto his forearms, moving his hind paws back and forth to stretch out his legs. While he may have been using the suitcase as a quasi-pillow, it was quite clear to him, by the warmth in his chest and side, that she was sitting in the middle of the bench seat, under him.

"I fell asleep, did I?" he asked, keeping his eyes shut. Nick found it hard to believe, yet the evidence was right there in front of him by way of the fact that he just woke up. More than that, though, he felt himself troubled by his dream. He could honestly not remember a night that wasn't either enveloped in an exhausted, dreamless sleep or a horror show of imagery. It wasn't even the subject of his dream that made his brow furrow, though it was worth noting, it was the the fact that it _wasn't_ a nightmare which gave him pause.

"You did," Judy replied lazily. Her finger continued to trace circles on his head, keeping a tuft of his fur separate from all the rest. Nick became aware of her other paw, resting between his shoulder blades, and he peeking out at the metal in front of him with one eye cracked open. "You talk in your sleep a lot."

Nick's head tilted to the side, so that he was resting on his cheek, and he looked over his shoulder at the rabbit in the corner of his vision. He smiled warmly at her with his lidded eyes. "I need to stop doing that."

Smiling back, she flashed the tips of her buck teeth at him. "Why?" she asked, bringing her shoulders up her long neck and fluttering her eyelashes at him. Judy brought the paw she had resting on Nick's back up to place over her heart theatrically. "I think it's sweet that you're dreaming about me and you on a beach."

Nick snorted loudly, his lips curling upwards as he lazily dropped his chin back onto his forearms, closing his eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Carrots," he replied, taking to looking like he was going back to sleep, though he was very much awake. He had no intention of getting off Judy any sooner than he had to, and found himself wallowing in the feeling much like he'd done in his dream. Her powerful thighs against his chest and her stomach pressed into his side was enough to feel like a furnace of warmth. "I was dreaming about scamming a hippopotamus with a couple crows I painted to look like yellow-billed oxpeckers."

Judy hummed back at him, her paw having followed the motion of his head while still drawing her circle over and over. Nick felt her other arm drop back down onto his back, abandoning her show. "That was a strange dialogue you were having with that hippo," she teased him.

"What can I say?" he asked, raising his eyebrows without opening his eyes. Nick flicked his ears on his head for effect, swishing them back and forth quickly to hit Judy in her wrist. "Sometimes I'm too charming for my own good." Pulling his arms closer together, he stuck his nose down below his elbow, pushing it up against the canvas material on Judy's suitcase. He covertly breathed in a long take of air, catching the scents of her room, old wood, and her all intertwined into the carrots patterned suitcase. With Judy's scent filling his sense in the first time since the loft, he felt that much more calm.

"Uh-huh," she replied sarcastically, lightly batting at the ear that had hit her. Judy stopped circling her finger on his scalp, instead just resting the padless pad across his head, right at the base of his right ear. Nick could tell she was thinking about something, but could only guess what. After a moment, she ran her dull black claws through his fur where she had rifled it, smoothing it back into its natural position. "We're almost there," Judy said softly, halting her combing, much to Nick's disappointment, and taking to just running her paw flatly across the top of his head. "Maybe you should actually start getting up."

Nick's smile diminished slowly as her words sunk in. "Oh," he replied flatly. It took every piece of willpower he had to pushing himself up. As soon as his chest lifted off her legs, the chilly air of the train was sucked into his shirt, robbing him of everything but the lingering warmth in his fur. He sat back into the seat next to Judy, who was sitting in the middle, close to him, and looked through the windows of the locomotive. They had already entered the city, and from the sights of the sprawling low buildings of Savannah Central, he could tell they were almost there. "Would you look at that? I slept for a long time."

Humming next to him, and looking a little disappointed herself, Judy looked up into his lidded eyes. "Well…" she said, her voice trailing off with a half-hearted shrug. "You looked really tired, so I'm glad." Nick returned her gaze with a few small nods, sharing in her sentiment. However strange it might be, he felt more rested than he had since sleeping in the loft. "Did you stay up all night or something?" Judy asked him, patting her jeans and rubbing her paws into her thighs to try to maintain the dissipating heat.

A thoughtful breath left the fox's snout as he looked back over the city. If he were to guess, they had maybe ten minutes before they reached Central Station. He sincerely doubted that they would have a welcoming party of undesirables, but there was no recounting the possibility. There had been photographers waiting just outside the museum, after all, and Nick never even caught their scent. "You could say I was putting a bow on my old life," he replied, wondering if they should take the maintainance exit through the staff section. "Crossing the T's, dotting the I's, that sort of thing."

Judy nodded slowly, her erect ears swishing in front of Nick's face as he stared out their window. "I'm glad," she said, the beginnings of a yawn taking hold. Before she could stop it, she sucked in a breath as her jaw extended its full length, Nick looking down into her own dangerous looking maw. Judy's enormous buck teeth and rounded herbivorous nubs shone proudly on display as she stuck her arms up into the air, accidently smacking Nick in his chin as she did so. She clamped her jaw shut and retracted her arms to her chest swiftly, her ears dropping behind her as she looked up at Nick with wide eyes.

She extended her paws to help, but Nick just raised his own into the air, stopping her as he rubbed his chin with the other. He chuckled at her expression, moving the paw that was rubbing his chin down to run his claws through the fur of his neck. "You look tired yourself, Fluff," he commented dryly, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow. "Did I make it hard for you to get some sleep yourself?"

A paw shot behind her head to nervously smooth down one of her ears, her nose twitching rapidly as she gave him an embarrassed smile. "Oh, no," she said, waving her other paw through the air out in front of the pair. "You were fine." When she was done getting over the fact that she had hit him in the face on accident, her rich eyes took on the expression of lidded contemplation as she glanced away from the fox. "I was just thinking... About a lot of things."

Nick studied her behavior with his own lidded eyes, drinking in her little movements and twitches. He could tell something was bothering her, and he didn't think it was her leg. Another thing he noticed was how she had started avoiding looking at him. Cocking an eyebrow he continued to regard her in the lull between them. Nick felt his paws being drawn to his pockets. He wanted to show her the contents of his pockets, the carrots pen and the flexible rectangular shape, but he decided to wait a little bit more, weaving his paws together on his lap. "Are you nervous?" he asked her, tilting his head forward.

Finally looking up into his green eyes, she smiled warmly at him, the curl in her lips bringing her eyelids closed just a tad. "About going back to work?" she asked before waving her paw through the air dismissively. "Nah." Judy turned back to look out over the angular juttings of brick and concrete, power lines criss-crossing like spiderwebs over the bustling streets. The city's life had returned to it in the week since the revelations about their mayor, and life had all but returned to normal. "I think I'm just worried about being back in the public eye. I just really don't want to screw up again."

Nick accepted that answer, though he still believed there was something else going on. Nodding in understanding, he tapped her on the shoulder lightly, making her look back up at him with raised eyebrows. "You'll do great, Carrots," he said, a genuine smile keeping a firm grasp on his muzzle. Rolling his head around his shoulders in thought, he finally shrugged, not having been able to find something more reassuring than his immediate thought. "Just smile and pose for the pictures; that's the only thing that matters when it comes to public relations. Everything else they'll just make up, spin, or take out of context to support what they already believe."

Judy puffed out her cheeks as her eyelids dropped halfway down, ears flopping back behind her. "That's a very cynical thing to say," she replied flatly. Nick watched her for a moment, staring out into the cityscape absently, her mind obviously far away.

Chewing on the inside of his lip, he wondered whether she didn't appreciate the sentiment, or she just didn't appreciate it was _him_ espousing it. Something told Nick that whatever was distracting her probably had to do with him, and he was not helping. "Doesn't make it wrong," he said, but she did not reply. Again he found himself wondering about how she would react to the contents of his pockets. Part of him believed she would be overjoyed, but something else, coupled with her thoughtful demeanor, felt worried. His life had prepared him for the worst, but that preparation would feel wholly inadequate in the face of her rejection.

A pensive sigh escaped the fox's muzzle, and his lips found themselves curling downward. Nick threw his arm over her shoulders and brought her in closer, making her finally look up at him. "Look…" he drawled out, attempting to capture her unmitigated attention, and by the way her eyes seemed to lose their strain, he guessed he was successful. "Your intentions are good, and that's all that counts. Mammals arguing on the sidelines while you do all the work? Forget about them. They're not worth your attention."

Judy looked down at her lap, her ears smushed up to the back of her neck with the weight of Nick's forearm. "You say that now," she replied, wringing her paws together. "What do we do if there are reporters?"

A lazy smile crept up his muzzle. "Just smile and pose."

Snorting, the doe looked up into his emerald eyes drolly. " _That_ won't end up in a tabloid," she replied sarcastically.

The way she said it made the fox pause, his eyes narrowing slightly without his smile following suit. She seemed to catch the shift in his face, and immediately looked away, out into the deluge of water. Nick didn't move, despite the relative intimacy of their position, though he was beginning to think he should. "Does it bother you?" he asked, carefully pulling his arm up off her shoulders.

Without looking at him, her paws shot up to stop his retreat, grabbing onto both sides of his forearm. Nick watched her guide him back onto her shoulders slowly, laying it down across herself. She pulled it closer, so that his elbow was situated at the back of her neck and the rest of his arm was draped down over her chest. "It bothers me no matter _what_ they're saying," she replied softly, her eyes falling down onto his orange fur hooking around her neck. "It's got nothing to do with the context."

They sat in silence for a moment, Nick watching her weave her paws around his wrist gingerly, keeping the appendage in place. She held it with just enough force to tell him she didn't want him to move, and he found no reason to object. It was still strange to him how easy it was to let her into his personal space when he had spent the last twenty years keeping it so closed off from others, but it was almost irresistible in how relaxing it was. He had practically starved himself of contact, and now that he had it, he couldn't help but indulge in the feeling of closeness. He hadn't _really_ felt it in a very long time, and the enticing comfort that Judy gave him was more than a little alluring.

For whatever reason, Nick was reminded again of his grandfather, and his teachings about edges and roundness. Going far beyond shunning the debilitating affects of mind altering substances and what he called 'spineless' beliefs, his grandfather had warned him against one thing above all other: the disarming ruination brought on by comfortable companionship. He likened it to a blight that could ruin a mammal in mere minutes. The greatest rounding force, he had said, is yourself, and something that could make you want to be round, even for a moment, was a weapon you would use against your own mind.

 _The world is full of stuff like that_ , Nick could hear in a muddied voice near the back of his mind. _Most of it whispers sweet things into your ear until it's too late, and then you know how you didn't just lose control, you practically gave it away_. It was bizarre to think he had been right, in a way, but what was even more bizarre was how much he didn't _care_ that he was right, and was actually unbelievably thankful. The truth was he _had_ found something that made him want to be round, but it wasn't just for her. She made him realize that he could break the cycle of foxes falling into the trap of expectation, and it wasn't a weapon to be used _against_ his mind, it was a tool he could use to _better_ his mind - better the world - even just by a tiny bit.

Nick pulled her in closer, looking through the windows of the train to see Central Plaza rapidly approaching, the towering majesty of city hall stretching high into the air in front of the vast heights of downtown. "You'll get used to the celebrity treatment eventually," he informed her, an amused smile spreading up his lips. "Just give it time."

Snorting, Judy released her hold on his wrist to hug it in earnest, scooting herself closer into his side. "If I ever do," she replied, seriousness laced throughout her words. "You've got to smack me out of it."

A dry chuckle escaped the fox as a toothy smile split his face. " _That_ won't end up in a tabloid," he repeated back to her, playfully.

The train pulled upwards on an elevated track, rising further above the brick buildings of northern Savannah Central. It was more the south and southwest side that held the orangish tint of the savannah it was modeled after. The northeast reaches around downtown reminded the fox of pictures he had seen of other cities, of gentrified apartments and elegant architecture. Although it was not widely considered to be a part of downtown, Nick had always believed the fairly cosmopolitan atmosphere coupled with the characterless buildings seemed like an extension of the towering heights of glass and steel.

Rounding a corner, the train sailed over an enormous mammal-made park, complete with fields of grass and trees. Tracks from all directions fed into the space, all curving naturally above Lake Zootopia, a masterful construction of mammalian design. It was a mammal-made lake in the shape of a seven-pronged palm tree, the length of several stadiums from base to tip. The tracks all fed into the grandiose open back of Zootopia Central Station, which, from the air, looked like the trunk of the massive palm. In the muted light of the storm, it looked even larger than it normally did, the station blurring in the distance behind the ribbons of falling water.

By the time the train was sailing over the deep waters of the concrete framed lake, Nick could see the flowery walkways on the inside of the station through the magnificent open back. The three archways that allowed for both locomotive and pedestrian travel were brightly lit from the interior lights, and the spiralling horns that flanked both corners were awash in glistening light from the many gleaming windows throughout the city. They disentangled themselves and Nick jumped off the seat just as the arching roof with a pillared wall of windows following the curve passed overhead, and the train slowly started coming to a stop just as it was shielded from the rain.

Stretching out his cramped legs and reaching his arms up as far as they would go, the fox let out a strained grunt before sighing in pleasure as he deflated. Nick turned back to retrieve the suitcase, but paused when he saw Judy rubbing her leg with a narrow look. "Is your leg bothering you?" he asked, tearing his eyes from her legs to meet her turning eyes.

"It's fine," she replied, though her frown and rougher massaging told him that was a lie. "You just slept on it funny and it's acting up."

Nick felt his ears drop back against his head. He was fairly upset that he had draped himself across her lap without even giving a passing thought to the fact that her leg had been badly injured. Trading his vision between her attempted look of sincerity and her fervent massage, he felt a frown take his face. "Can you walk?"

Scoffing, Judy gave in an incredulous glance before returning her eyes to her leg. "Of course I can walk."

He watched her for a moment, noting that the train had all but come to a stop already. Glancing around, he could see the other passengers already leaving their seats, several of whom shooting strange looks in their direction, which he ignored. Gazing back at the doe who was now attempting to grab her crutch without putting any strain on her leg, Nick made a split-second decision. He wasn't about to see her struggle to get across the platform on her return to the city, and certainly didn't like seeing her in pain. The option that immediately came to mind, the idea coming from one of her own siblings, made him think they were about to get stared at even more than they already had.

Nick flopped back down next to her, reaching over and snatching the crutch away from her reach and leaning back into the seat. Judy's brow furrowed as she looked into his eyes, silently demanding why he had just taken away her only means of mobility. The fox just smiled wickedly at her in turn. "How about you take a ride on the 'ol Wilde Express?" he asked, hooking a thumb up at his shoulder.

For a moment, Judy looked confused by the suggestion, as if he had spoken gibberish. "What?" she asked, not a trace of understanding in her tone. Almost instantly, however, revelation struck her like a lightning bolt, and her jaw dropped open to reveal her buck teeth as she stared, wide-eyed, at him. Judy reeled back in surprise, shaking her head fervently. "No!" she said a little louder than she should have, making her paws shoot up to her mouth as she glanced around.

Nick cocked an eyebrow at ther reaction, more amused than hurt. He payed no attention to the environment she had suddenly found herself absorbed in studying, and leaned in closer, his lidded eyes and lazy smile inching slowly towards her nervous expression. Soon, she could ignore his closeness no longer, and found her wide, amethyst eyes snapping to meet his gaze, her nose twitching endlessly, though she continued to lean away from him. "Let me pay you back for being a wonderful pillow." His voice rumbled out of his throat lowly, and he tilted his head slightly to the side the closer he got, stopping when there was just a short distance between them. "Come on, Carrots. It's just to the taxi."

Judy's eyes shifted from surprise to bewilderment, and then swiftly to irritation. Before the fox could think to retreat from the rabbit, her paws shot up from where they had been close to her chest, and clasped around his muzzle titly, sealing them shut. Nick's smile was almost instantly replaced with a frown as she pulled his snout downward to push her eyes as close as they could be to his own without their faces touching. "Yeah, and through the whole Central Station platform!" she whispered back harshly. "Do you have any idea what they'll be saying if they spot us like that?"

The smile that had vanished crept its way back over his tightly closed muzzle. "Again with this?" he managed to asked despite her hold on his jaw. Judy let him go and he pulled himself back up, though he still maintained a fairly small distance between them. "Fluff, you've got to stop worrying about what other mammals think of you." She made no sign that what he was saying was getting through, and he let out a drawn out sigh. "That's _their_ problem," he said, waving his paw out the window before pointing at the doe beside him. "Not yours." Judy just stared at him blankly, searching his eyes.

Upon seeing that she still did not react in any way that he would describe as consideration of his words, he sighed loudly, dropping his paw down on the seat between them. Nick brought up his other paw to scratch the cream colored fur of his neck just as the train finally came to a halt in the station. A tone played over the rail car's speakers as he gave her a thoughtful gaze, and he brought his voice down to a husky whisper. "Do you remember my mantra?"

Judy nodded her head slowly, her large, lavender eyes shifting between the fox and the automatic train doors sliding open, though Nick showed no sign of seeing it. "'Never let them see that they get to you'?" she finally asked, looking up at him thoughtfully with her ears raising up above her.

Nodding in response with his lidded eyes still regarding her, Nick glanced over her head to see the bustling platform, full of mammals going in every direction. "That's the one," he replied, his eyes turning back to meet her gaze. Jerking his head in the direction of the window as he waved his paw at the hoard of mammal, he caused Judy to follow the motion, looking out into the busy platform, which caused her brow to only furrow more. "If you're going to walk on that leg all the way through the platform, keeping me at arm's length, _just_ because of what some mammals _might_ say, you are letting them see that they got to you."

She still didn't looked convinced, but when her eyes snapped back to look at him with newfound concern, instead of plain opposition, he regarded her more carefully. "What about you?" she asked, bringing up a paw to place on his arm softly. "Do you really not care that they might write about you like that?" It was her turn to see no reaction from the fox, and she darted her eyes between his, searching. "Remember the paper the other day?"

"I remember," Nick replied flatly. Taking in a deep breath, he glanced around the orange carriage. The fox saw that new passengers were beginning to board. "I think it's high time I stopped caring what other mammals think of me, too." Looking back down at the bunny beside him, he gave her a warm smile, but it held with it a depth that betrayed other feelings. "What are they going to say about me that they haven't said already?" Judy looked away, her ears becoming too heavy to keep up. "I'm tired of changing who I am for society, and I'm certainly not going to take back my offer of helping my _friend_ because they'll drag me through the mud."

Judy wrung her paws together nervously, her lowered head glancing anywhere that wasn't the fox. After a few short moments she took in a deep breath, closing her eyes tightly and balling her paws into fists. When she looked back up into Nick's eyes, she held the look of determination that was so comfortable on her face, and he felt his own reflection relax into what he could only guess was a dopey smile, one ear taller than the other. "Okay," she said sternly with a slight shake of her balled up paws.

An amused breath escaped his snout as his smile grew wider. Nick hopped down off the bench seat landed on the ground with a thump. Straightening up, he held out his paw at the doe and swished his finger around in a circular motion, gesturing for her to turn around on the seat. Understanding lit up her eyes, and Judy swiveled around on the spot, spiralling on her rear to give the fox a clear view of her fluffy tail. He bent over, bringing his open paws into her sight before slowly lowering them onto her hips. Nick took a firm grasp on her, feeling her taut muscles just below her clothes.

Her stomach twitched at his initial touch, but she soon relaxed into him as he put more pressure on her. Finally feeling like he had a good enough hold, he lifted her up into the air like she barely weighed anything, causing her to squeak in surprise. Nick brought her up and over his head to sit comfortably on his shoulders, her powerful thighs pressed up against both sides of his neck and her stomach pressed into the back of his head, forcing his ears to sprawl upwards on her chest. "Comfortable?" he asked, raising his head up to look at the underside of her chin, seeing her twitching nose at full speeds as she orientated herself.

"Gosh," she replied bewilderedly, instinctually hooking her heels together over his chest and grabbing lightly onto his ears. Judy looked down into his emerald eyes, smiling broadly at him. It seemed that she had gotten over her initial inhibition, and was thoroughly enjoying herself. "No wonder Cotton liked it up here so much."

Nick snorted loudly, his head tilting back down to look at their stuff thrown about the seat. "I'll take that as a yes," he said lazily, grabbing the suitcase and the empty wicker basket (which had been left on the floor since they had eaten all of the contents) with one paw, and snatching the crutch with the other. He turned abruptly, feeling the rabbit on his shoulders sway slightly, and swished his tail back behind him. As he was turning onto the aisle, he swiped the umbrella that had been leaning up against the back of the seat, handing it up at the doe above him, who took it happily.

The sight that greeted them when he came into view of the rest of the passengers was actually pretty amusing to Nick. On his own, he could never have hoped to garner so many dumbstruck glares shot in his direction at once. He walked down the aisle slowly, as if flaunting the fact that, yes, he was a fox, and, yes, she was a bunny. Despite himself, a dopey smile captured his lidded features while he was passing the other passengers, their heads following their movement, gaping at them. Nick felt Judy squirm on his shoulders, leaning down over his head to look at him. "This might be worse than I thought," she said with a sheepish smile.

"We'll just have to enjoy it even more, then," Nick replied, lifting his eyelids so he could look up at her face. "Are you ready to show them what 'anyone can be anything' actually looks like, Fluff?"

Judy smiled broadly down at him, her buck teeth shining through her smile in a way that Nick could honestly get used to, if he hadn't already. "I was born ready," she replied as she sat back up proudly on his shoulders, holding onto one of his ears with one paw and the umbrella with the other.

Nick chuckled, rolling his head around his neck to find the most comfortable position sandwiched between her thighs, and walked out of the train and onto the platform. At first, it looked like they had gone unnoticed for the most part, but one by one mammals took double or even triple takes at the pair sauntering down the flowery walkway of the station, each one gaping at them as if they had two heads. It created an exponential effect that soon had the entire walkway looking in their direction, with more than a few scrutinizing gazing from the windows of the two trains framing the tiled path.

They just continued walking down the platform, pretending to not even notice the fact that they had become the center of attention for any set of eyes that could see them. Nick had kept his easy smile and lidded eyes impassive towards the judgemental gazes of mammals for a long time, but for whatever reason, this time he felt himself just smile wider. They couldn't touch him. Nick was a free fox with no worries and not a care in the world for the opinions of others, except for maybe one mammal in particular. He felt her tighten her grip on his ear, and he looked up at her a contented glance.

She looked back down at him with her same proud expression, her ears fully erect on her head with her shoulders back, but he could see the flush of red in both her long appendages and her face. Nick couldn't help but chuckle at her embarrassment, which just made her more flustered. Judy reached down and grabbed the top of his muzzle to point it back straight ahead, forcing him to look away from her. It just made him laugh harder when his eyes fell back on the now even more incredulous stares, and she swatted his ear with her free paw. A tactic wholly ineffective at tapering his amusement.

Nick stepped onto the escalator, allowing the metal staircase to take them up to the ground floor of the station. Each mammal passing them on the escalator going down found their features slacken in abject shock, their heads turning to keep them in sight well after they had passed them. There was the occasional that stared blankly, or were even amused by the sight, but the overwhelming majority of mammals could not believe what their eyes were telling them, and their faces clearly telegraphed their mixture of contempt and bewilderment. It would seem to Nick that his recent appearance in the paper might have exacerbated his public image more than anything else.

"Why do you think they're staring?" Judy whispered down into his ear, making the fox glance up at her.

He gazed into her eyes lazily for a moment before attempting to shrug his shoulders, turning his vision back up the escalator. "Who knows," he replied flatly. "Maybe they're just jealous."

Judy snorted at him loudly. "Har har," she returned. For awhile as they ascended, she remained quiet, and Nick could practically feel her thinking. "You'd think we were some kind of monster, the way we're getting stared at."

Glancing up to look at her, Nick could see her face had grown more worried and disturbed than embarrassed. Judy's ears had gone limp behind her, and she had taken one of them to drape over her chest to absently pet it in her nervous tension, abandoning the grasp on his own ear. Her rich amethyst eyes darted from mammal to mammal in building panic. The fox wondered if it was cruel of him to subject her to the same kind of stares her got. He had more than twenty years to get used to them, while she was just finding out what it looked like. Nick's ears pinned themselves as far back as they could go, which was just into her stomach.

Nick tilted his snout up highed, pressing the top of his head into her stomach. Finally, the doe shut her eyes tightly and took a deep breath before meeting his gaze. She looked down at him, searching his eyes quietly. "Don't worry about them," Nick whispered, his smug smile fading away to reveal a genuine curl in his lips. "It's you and me against the world, remember?"

Pursing her lips, Judy took a fleeting glance at her surroundings before her her eyes returned to him. After a moment, she nodded slowly, letting go of her ear and allowing her paw to softly return to his. Her fingers snaked around the edge of the dark fur that spread down from the tips of his knife-like appendage, lightly grabbing hold of it. She didn't need the help in balance, and the expression that relaxed into her features as she held it carefully told him why she was really doing it. Judy forced her proud expression back up as she straightened, and Nick smiled up at her for a moment before returning his eyes ahead.

The escalator reached the ground floor a moment after, and Nick was once again given the full view of the immense building. The wall of arching pillars and a stained glass tree mural rose high above the bustling hoard of mammals belonging to all sizes and species. On either side of the arching roof, where the curve met the walls, the windows were spotted with water, the storm clouds turning the sky above a dark gray. Nick could not see outside the row of glass doors in the front of the building, but he knew that the protesters were still there, even if their numbers were severely diminished over the past couple days.

Nick strolled through the crowd with a skip in his step. No amount of scrutinizing glares could ruin his spirit, it seemed, and he happily trotted towards the station's entranceway, Judy bouncing slightly with every step. "Slow down," she called down to him, taking a firmer grasp on his ear. "You're going to break our necks." The fox just beamed ahead, not deeming it prudent to reply.

They made their way through the sea of disapproving eyes without so much as a stumble after that, both looking the picture of contentedness despite the circumstances. Now that the fox did not deem their resentful glares noteworthy of anything more than simple perception, he found himself seeing gazes of a different variety. Through the vast expanse of intolerance, Nick saw smiles directed their way. Mixed among the hate, there were mammals that didn't see them as something weird, and even looked amazed. He could hear them turn to their companions and whisper in awe that the bunny of his shoulders was the hero Judy Hopps.

Perhaps it was strange to feel elated that the first thing they saw wasn't just a shifty fox when it was only a small minority in a vast swath of disdain, but for whatever reason, the little smiles and nods sporadically among the crowd seemed to shine a hundred times as bright as any one scowl. As they walked through the collection of many different species, Nick found an unfamiliar feeling bubbling up inside him. Looking up at Judy's proud posture atop his shoulders, he felt like he might have an idea what it was; it was pride. He had never felt it before, his feelings always bordering on shame, but now he stood tall, shoulders back, walking with the knowledge that he could feel _proud_ to be himself.

Nick's ears perked up when he heard the faint sound of a kit no older than seven. _"Aren't those the mammals that saved the city?"_ he asked to his mother, an aging beaver. The fox's eyes fell on the pair staring at them from the juice bar, the mother quietly running her claws through her kit's fur. She smiled at Nick, and he smiled back, warmer than he thought he could. The mother looked down at her kit and said something to him that Nick could not hear, but the the light that shone through the small mammal's eyes, he could tell that she told him they were. Grinning happily at the young beaver, Nick winked at him, causing the beaver to smile even brighter, point at the odd pair of mammals, and tug on her mother's shirt.

Chuckling to himself at the awe displayed on the tiny mammal's face, Nick turned back to look at his path, seeing the glass entranceway almost upon them. The fox flicked the ear Judy wasn't holding onto to grab her attention, jerking his snout towards the door when he felt her eyes on him. She immediately understood what he was talking about, and stuck her paws out in front to grab onto the push bar attached to one of the sets of glass doors. Nick slowed his pace only enough to allow Judy to push the door open without the force pushing herself off of his own shoulders.

The familiar sight of the Grand Plaza lost none of its luster in the haze of falling water, the towering heights of the Warren building and City Hall stretching far into the air, framed by the breathtaking view of the Downtown district beyond. The plaza was still heavily crowded with protesters, though the numbers had diminished greatly since Nick had been there just a few days prior. Pedestrian traffic of any regularity had returned to the plaza, and they all walked along the edges of the shouting masses with a variety of umbrella sizes, shapes, and colors. A good majority of mammals waited just under the awning outside the main entrance of the station.

Nick took a sharp right, keeping to the protection of the overhang, and made his way to the east entrance of the station. The front entranceways led out into the plaza, so there were no roads allowing for motorized transport just beyond the arching doorways. Instead, mammals had to make their way to either the west or east entranceways, which ran parallel to roads that fed out into the rest of the city. The tramline that ran the circumference of Central Plaza would not take them far enough to where he wanted to go, and he knew that taxis often sat in waiting for a passenger just on the curb.

They continued to pass through the crowd of mammals, garnering a lot of attention as they did. Looking out over the plaza, the odd pair passed enormous columns that kept the decorative awning in place, each space between them resembling a short hallway that fed out into the rain. As Nick passed column after column, he observed the sauntering mammals that stood at the rain's edge, their paws, hooves, or whatever they had stuffed into their pockets. It was a quiet day, in all honesty. Even the mass of protesting mammals could be drained out by the sound of the constant bombardment of falling water.

Just as they passed another column, Nick's eye saw too late a news crew standing just at the edge of the awning's protection, filming a report. The cameramammal lion had his back to them, and standing directly in his camera's path was a neatly dressed wolf, holding his paw out in front of him. Standing on the wolf's padded palm, in an extravagant outfit, was a tiny rodent, microphone in her grasp and beaming directly into the lense. The fox did not have to see the ZNN logo on the camera to know who it was. Nick tried in vain to duck out as quick as he could, even going so far as to bring up Judy's crutch to partially hide his face.

"As you can see behind me," the female rodent said, waving her tiny paw around in the direction of the plaza, where all the protestors were situated. "Protests are still in full swing here in Central Plaza. There has been a significant decrease in numbers over the past couple days, but the main lines outside both City Hall and Precinct One have, for the fifth day in a row, remained as strong as-" She cut herself off when her eyes met Nick's for a split second, abandoning her recording. "Hey." The rodent's eyes darted up to look at Judy. "That's Judy Hopps," she said in awe, pointing the paw that wasn't grabbing hold of the microphone at them.

Nick's ears flattened against his head as he turned to look back down the awning covered path, quickening his pace. From the corner of his eye, he could see the rodent gesture wildly at her crew, ordering them to follow the odd pair. "Uh oh," Judy whispered down at him, pulling open the umbrella to hide herself.

Trotting quicker still, he stole a glance behind to see they were rapidly gaining on them through the crowded path. Nick sighed loudly, realizing that they would not be getting away, but still continued trotting away. If they could grab a taxi as fast as they could at the east entrance, they might be able to only have to endure a couple questions. "Just smile and pose, Carrots."

"Officer Hopps!" The rodent yelled after them, her voice carrying far further than Nick believed a mammal of her size could manage. "Officer Hopps!" The fox finally rounded the corner of the building, finding the road that ran parallel to the station's main building. Lining the curb were yellow cabs of all sizes, each one with their light on. Nick finally made it to the edge of the awning when they caught up to them, the odd pair shielded from the rain by the umbrella that Judy held over their heads. The wolf that was carrying her swiftly made his way around the fox, walking backwards in front of him and holding out the tiny reporter towards the doe.

"My name is Vicki Vole; I'm with ZNN," she said cheerfully, firmly planted on the wolf's open paw despite the jostling movement and the rain. The cameramammal was the next to follow, sticking the lense just under the hem of the umbrella to point it at the rabbit. "What can you tell us about the events leading up to the arrest of Dawn Bellwether?" The rodent pulled the microphone away from her beaming muzzle and held it out towards the rabbit.

Judy looked surprised by the tiny mammal intruding on her visibility, reeling backwards as soon as she came into view under the umbrella, only to reel backwards again when the camera followed. Seeing that she was being recorded, she quickly cleared her throat before straightening up, putting a firm, cop-like edge to her voice. "Just that it's an ongoing investigation," she replied flatly. "If you'd like, you can call the ZPD with any questions you might have, and we'll try our best to answer what questions we can."

The rodent looked disappointed by the answer, puffing out her cheeks and furrowing her brow at the doe. She put back on her cheerful demeanor when her eyes locked back onto Nick's, an idea crossing her bright eyes. "So you have no statement about what happened?" she asked, turning back to look at Judy while alternating in which direction she was pointing it.

The rabbit nodded blankly. "That is correct," she replied.

"What about you?" she asked Nick, pointing the microphone down at the fox this time. When he didn't answer her besides raising his eyebrows, she clarified. "You aren't a police officer. Is there anything you can share with us?"

Chuckling, Nick reached out with the paw holding the crutch and popped open a cab door. The news crew had moved out of the way to their side when they had finally reached the yellow vehicle, retaining a close distance so that the wolf could still hold the reporter out towards the pair. "Only that it's an ongoing investigation," he replied. He tossed the suitcase and basket across the seat, watching them bounce into place as he lobbed the crutch in the same direction.

"Do you care to tell us about how your involvement came about?" the reported questioned, watching him grab Judy by the waist to lift her off his shoulders, gently placing her down onto the back seat of the cab. "We're all dying to know who you are."

Nick paused after letting Judy go, looking into her eyes deeply. The doe just cocked an eyebrow at him, darting her vision between him and the reporter next to him. With a broad smile, Nick turned to face the reporter, in full view of the camera that had been following them the whole way. "My name is Nick Wilde," he said firmly, his lazy smile growing even bigger at the giddy excitement in the tiny mammal's face, elated about the fact that she had gotten the scoop on his name. "And all you need to know is I am a close friend of Judy's." Nick jumped up onto the seat dexterously, smiling at the camera crew as he shut the door with a half-hearted wave. "Buh-bye, now."

Shutting the door loudly, Nick glanced back over to Judy, who was looking up at him in shock, her nose twitching incessantly. In her bewildered state, she had completely forgotten they were in a cab, and her head swirled around to meet the eyes of the ocelot driver, staring at them both indifferently through the rear-view mirror. "The Grand Pangolin Arms, please," she called up to the plainly dressed mammal, pointing down the street for him. The driver turned the ignition as he waited for further instructions. "It's off-"

"Scratch what she just said," Nick spoke up, cutting her directions off. The fox nodded his head down the other direction as he watched the ocelot in the rear-view mirror. "Take us to the corner of Grass and Verdure."

It took a moment for the bunny to process the fact that he was taking them somewhere else than her home, and she stared up at him in confusion. Judy's eyes narrowed at him slightly as her nose twitched on the forefront of her face, drawing Nick's gaze. "What's on the corner of Grass and Verdure?" she asked, cocking her chin up to look at him down her stocky muzzle.

Nick chuckled at the sight of her ears perking up in alertness high on her head. He brought his paw up and tapped her on her twitching nose, making her reel back slightly to bring her own paw up defensively, rubbing the spot he had touched. "Something I want to show you," he replied, leaning back into the seat to watch the camera crew from the window. From where he was, their retreating forms looked like they had started another recording, this time with their getaway as the backdrop. Snorting, the fox glanced back over to Judy, seeing she was staring at him with a worried look.

She searched his eyes for a moment, trying to see his thoughts through them. Despite their closeness, she seemed frustrated slightly that his eyes betrayed nothing, their indifferent lidded state halting her search before it could even get started. "Why did you give them your real name?" she asked, waving her paw back in the direction of Central Station. "Now you're name is going to be on all the papers with your face."

Nick watched her, and something inside him felt the need to keep the indifference on the surface, to block her out, but something more wanted so much to do otherwise. His piercing orbs softened slightly as he look into hers, clenching his jaw to press his sharp teeth together. After a long moment, he sighed. "I just figured it was time I stopped lurking in the shadows," he replied, turning his head to look back out the window. When he looked back, his features were heavier, set into his face. Nick looked tired, but not because of lack of sleep -because he had let go of his mask. "I'm not ashamed to be _myself_ anymore, and I'm not going to act like it."

A moment of silence passed between them, both looking into each other's eyes. After a while, Judy grew timid, looking down at her knees as she pulled one of her ears over her chest to absently pet. Nick also looked away, gazing out into the stormy streets of Zootopia. It wasn't that long of a drive from Central Station to where they were going, and they would be there in no time at all. He wouldn't have half the time to help prepare himself for what he had in mind, and the nervous tension building in his stomach alluded to the fact that he desperately felt like he needed it.

To Nick, there did not seem to be very many constants in life. What often seemed grounded and steady was - in his eyes - usually a hollow front whose foundation was often shaky at the best of times. His life had for a long time been a dedication to crafting a reality around that unstable foundation, realizing that nothing lasts forever, and the only way to remain free from the consequences of that foundation's crumble was to make the rest of the reality as fragile as it; a life built on the idea that the only way to be _sure_ is to be _unsure_ , and exist on the cusp of all-encompassing detachment.

Whether or not it was a life worth living was a difficult question, even now. Sure, he never had to worry about his feelings being hurt, or things he cared about being taken away, but that usually meant that he held nothing close enough to feel bad about losing and he had nothing to take away. It had been a long twenty years, that was what he had decided, far too long. Every moment he was stepping away from his old life the longer it felt, and the grittier the details became. Still, now that he had something that _could_ be taken away, something that he _would_ feel bad about losing, he also felt more vulnerable.

His safety net had been dismantled (by his own paws), his income streams had been abandoned (by his own choice), and - at least, as far as Judy was concerned - his mask was in utter shambles. The questioned had stopped being 'what was he going to do?' some time ago, but his choice had stuck with him every waking moment since it was set into stone. In just five short days, he had gone from one of the most successful homeless mammals to ever live to just a homeless mammal, and the implications of it did not hit him lightly. He was just a short distance away from being just like everyone else walking the streets.

A lot could be said about Nick Wilde's resolve and his perseverance through times of hardship, but that was through a kind of hardship not often see in the modern world. It took the form of something far more primal than just the day-to-day grind, as he was the modern equivalent of a wild animal. He slept in the dirt and small nooks away from prying eyes, ate whatever food he could get his paws on, and did it all without a care in the world for what others might have to say about it. Now, he was faced with a hardship that did not technically concern his life; it was a choice based on preference, and he had very few of those.

Nick supposed there might be something inherently insane about just abandoning a life that he had lived for twenty years. He was shooting for the antithesis of what he had been, embracing the foundation he knew to be far too fragile, and then pursuing a life atop that foundation. It opened him up to disappointment, grief, and _pain_. He knew these feelings all too well from his time before shunning the shaky base, and at least some part of him knew just how crazy it was to willingly put himself in that kind of harm's way once again. Despite all of that, he was glad to have done it.

You can't make the world a better place by sitting around, watching it pass you by. Nick knew that there was a price for everything, and doing good was unfortunately among them. He could not do good at the same time as keeping himself from pain; it was just a natural truth. That did not bother him, though. He had taken enough from this world, and he felt that it was time he started giving back, to make a difference. The price it demanded seemed so inconsequential in the eyes of what it bought. It was like the smiles in the train station. All it took was just a _few_ in an ocean of disdain to make a difference, and _he_ could be one of those smiles.

Nick glanced over at Judy, seeing her gazing passively out her own window. He studied her for a time, and as if she could feel his eyes on her, she turned to meet his gaze. The todd lost himself in her eyes, and by the look of confusion writing itself on her features, he could guess he was probably making a strange face. Nick knew he was being weird for staring, but he honestly found that he couldn't help it. Everything about her just made him feel numb in his bones when she was in his sight. Every detail was bewitching, but her eyes most of all put him under a spell. She was his _best friend_. It was still weird to think about.

He decided in that moment that she would like his surprise, the rectangular object burning a hole in his pocket. His worries melted away as he continued staring, and for the first time in his life, the vulnerability did not fill him with a sense of unease about possible betrayals, but instead instilled a sense of nervousness that only stretched as far as he was embarrassed. More than that, he _wanted_ Judy to see him, not just his mask of hollow indifference. It felt wrong hiding stuff from her now, and consistently had to keep himself from putting back up his walls out of habit.

Nick's contemplation was swiftly brought to a halt when a tiny, grey paw shot up to grab him by the snout. His unfocused eyes came back to life, and he looked at the bashful blush that spread across the rabbit's face, her ears pinned against her back. He believed he may have been staring for a little longer than he thought by the way she puffed out her cheeks, and was powerless to stop a genuine grin that spread up his face. As he was only breathing through his nose, every breath he took snaked its way through the fur of her padless paw, filling his nasal cavity with her scent. Nick was about to say something when she pushed his nose upwards.

The purple tip of his snout was thrust into the air by the rabbit's shoving, pulling his lips up to reveal his canines just underneath. Nick tilted back with a groan by the forcefulness of it, teetering over for a split second before falling into the door. When he was finally out of her reach, his snout shot back downwards to look at the mammal that had just assaulted him, rubbing his nose as he watched her cross her arms and pout. "You're a weirdo," she said flatly, leaning forward to glare at him, her face and ears flushed a deep crimson. Even her nose was a delightful shade of red, which just made the laughter come harder.

Judy just narrowed her eyes at him as he laughed, puffing out her cheeks more. Her face had gotten even redder at his outburst, and he could see her start to fidget in embarrassment. " _I'm_ the weirdo?" he finally managed to say through a toothy cackle, spreading one of his paws flat over his heart in mock disbelief.

Turning away from him with her arms still crossed, she closed her eyes and turned up her nose, refusing to look at him. "At least I don't stare at mammals like that," she replied, though her brow furrowed slightly when he reacted by descending into another fit of chuckles.

"Admit it," Nick said playfully, sitting back up on the seat, close enough to Judy to see the crimson skin even through the black tips of her ears. The fox smiled wickedly at her turned figure, running his eyes over the thoroughly tinted ears that draped over her back. "You're just a sucker for my attention."

Judy snorted loudly at that, still refusing to look at him. "In your dreams, Wilde."

Her words made the fox pause for a moment, his mind wandering back to nap he had on the train. _Why yes_ , he kept to himself. _That is actually pretty accurate_. None of which he would dare say out loud. Nick found it fun to tease her like this, but that seemed to be crossing some kind of line that he found himself vaguely aware of. Instead, he decided to see how red she could get. "I didn't know you could turn that color, Carrots," he said, watching her squirm. "Maybe I should start calling you 'Tomato'?"

Nick's comments just seemed to exacerbate the problem, and her ears flushed an even darker red. Judy pulled her shoulders up to her neck and tightened her crossed arms, closing herself off. "Stop it," she begged, leaning away slightly while peeking out to look at the fox with one eye.

"I take it back," Nick replied, running his green eyes over the once-grey bunny, an impish grin curling his lips. "You're even redder than a tomato."

"Nick..." Judy pleaded.

The fox chewed on this inside of his cheek in thought, letting his eyes wander in a way that was deliberately obvious. Nick started to lean over, closing the distance between them inch by inch, and he saw her brow tent up on her forehead in worry at his antics. "Can we go deeper?" he asked in a husky voice, his breath blowing onto her fur. Nick's green eyes snapped up to meet her gaze, leaning further into her personal space "I wonder." He looked back at her now thoroughly crimson skin and brought his muzzle just a hair away from her ear. Opening his jaw slightly, he made himself look like he was going to bite her, before snapping his jaw shut loudly right next to her ears.

The gratification that he got from the even deeper blush that his action caused was short lived, however, as Judy spun around faster than he could pull away, slapping him across the muzzle. The force made Nick reeled back and land against the door, rubbing the side of his muzzle with a lazy, lidded smile. "Alright," he said, bringing up both of his paws in surrender "I deserved that. I'll own up to it."

Judy puffed out her cheeks again, whipping around to stick up her twitching nose away from him. The mammal next to her couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction as he sat back up on the seat. Turning his gaze back out the window, Nick could see that they were almost there. In just a few short minutes he would have to actually follow through with his plan, and the nervous tension began building in his stomach once again. Something inside of him warned against it, tried to reason with his conscience and explain how much better it would be if he just kept his walls up, but he paid that voice no mind. He could barely even hear it anymore.

A ways down the street, the first glimpse of their destination could be seen through the pouring rain, a overgrown, empty corner lot surrounded by a chain link fence. It was a bitter sight to see in his days of introspection. Where he had once ignored the lot's context, in the days that followed the press conference he could ignore it no longer. What had once been such a grounding location for the fox had withered in decayed in its forced atrophy, and the tall grass and speckles of trash littering the edges, it was a sight that filled him with the all-too familiar feeling of guilt. It just wouldn't stop coming to him.

Nick stole another glance at Judy, who had resumed staring out her window, but he did not allow his eyes to linger this time. Short glimpses would be enough to sate the guilt for now. Soon, the cab slowed to a crawl at the curb of the lot, and Judy's head spun around to see where they had stopped. It wasn't a surprise to Nick that her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she studied the mangy locale, her purple eyes falling on Nick for answers. He offered her nothing but a smile as he payed the driver. After he had gotten his change, he reached over her to grab the suitcase and basket, handing the crutch to the bunny.

Popping the car door open, he hopped down onto the wet concrete. Nick turned around and gestured for Judy to get close, which she obliged. Wrapping one arm around her middle, he lifted her up carefully, pulling her off the seat and into the rain. When he had gingerly placed her down, allowing her to get her balance, he shut the cab door, thumping the side with his balled up paw. The cab took off down the street, needing no more prompting than that, and Nick turned around to look at the lot in front of them. The rain pooled around the uneven dirt, and the glistening scorch marks on the adjacent buildings left nothing to the imagination.

"What is this place?" Judy asked next to him, and Nick glanced down to see the rain soaking her fur. In one swift motion, Nick pulled the umbrella from her grasp with his free paw and unfolded it above their heads, shielding them from the rain. He watched her curious face for a moment, studying her features.

"I figured since I've seen your home," Nick replied, turning his head back towards the lot, his smile growing weaker. "It was only fair that you got to see mine." The fox glanced down at the mammal next to him, and saw her stunned expression as she traded her sight between Nick and the empty lot. After a moment, he jerked his head in the direction of the gate. "Come on."

Judy followed close behind him, limping with her crutch under her arm, and the fox held the umbrella out in a way that made sure that she still stayed dry, sacrificing his own protection from the rain, an act that was not lost on the bunny. When they came upon the gate, Nick handed the umbrella out to Judy, who took it with her free paw, and went to work digging around his pocket for the key. Brushing past the carrot pen, he fished out the old piece of metal, unlocking the padlock and allowing the chain to slide free with a heavy clunk onto the soaked ground.

Retrieving the umbrella, he beckoned her through the gate, and followed close behind her as they passed through the opening. Nick shut the gate behind them, Judy waiting for some kind of direction, and he turned to look at her again. Seeing Judy standing where she stood now was a strange sight. This place meant a lot more to him than just some plot of land. It was the manifestation of all his mistakes. It was the embodiment of all of his forgotten dreams. If places could be the doorway to a mammal's soul, then this place would be Nick's, and Judy was standing right in the middle of it.

Nick felt the creeping of vulnerability once again, but he did nothing about it. Instead, he just nodded his head towards the back of the lot, where a weathered looking shipping container sat idly in the dirt, rain pattering off its sides and roof, pooling around its base. Judy looked confused again as she looked back up from the container, into his eyes. Reluctantly, she followed his instructions, limping in the direction of the blue container, the fox trailing behind for a moment before catching up to her. Nick stopped right in front of the doors, handing over the umbrella again so he could unlock them.

"I don't get it," Judy said behind him, watching him work the lock until it clicked open. "You live in a shipping container?"

Chuckling, Nick glanced behind himself as he pulled the padlock off the metal door. "You could say that," he replied, pulling open the cargo doors with a screech of metal scraping on metal. The grey light of the storm slowly spread throughout the interior of the container as he pulled the door all the way open. Next, he grabbed the other door, pulling it open as well. The odd pair of mammals stared into the interior of the container, listening to the thunderous sound created by the rain's deluge onto the thin metal roof. With a careful step, Nick brought himself up into the container, leaving the rabbit to follow him.

The weathered wood beneath his hind paws creaked with every step he made into the container, surveying the interior. That morning, he and Finnick had followed through with their intentions, taking the contents of his bags around the city to various locations: giving the canned goods to the food bank, the tools and things to Goodwillet, and a lot of things to the mammals living in the poorer areas of the city. Just about the only things he kept was a single blue rucksack and his assorted Hawaiian shirts, as Finnick seemed to think nobody else would want them. The mountains of items were gone, and the interior was once again mostly empty except for the piles of junk push up against the back.

Reaching the edge of the junk, Nick heard Judy step up into the container behind him, staring in awe at the collection. "Look at all this junk!" she called out, and the fox glanced over his shoulder to see her waving her paw through the air incredulously. Chuckling, he pulled off the green lawn chair from the top of the stack in front of him, struggling to disentangle it from the mound. When he was finally successful, he turned and made his way back over to the bunny. "What do you even do with all of it?"

"It's all from past hustles," he informed her, unfolding the chair promptly and pushing up up against the container's wall, patting the seat for her to sit down. "I've kept it in case we ever felt like we needed to use any of it again." Nick watched her plop down tiredly onto the chair, the old material creaking and protesting at the weight. She seemed relieved to be sitting down again, and he smiled down at he for a moment before turning away. "Never really did, though."

Nick kneeled down onto the wooden floor, fishing around his pocket for a pen. Instead of the sleek carrot, he brought out a dented, dark blue ballpoint and stuck it into a scuffed up hole in the floor, probing around for the mechanism within. He could feel the rabbit's eyes on him as he found his target, the spring clicking upwards with the board. Tossing the pen away, he pulled the board off the floor completely, revealing the dark, hidden interior below. A moment passed before he stuck his arm into the hole, unlatching the metal clamps that kept the facade in place. When he was done, he straightened out, pulling the connected boards with him.

In the floor, there was now a large rectangular hole where the planks of wood had been, and Nick stared down at the contents as he tossed the facade next to the other board, banging against the floor. Nick placed a paw on the precipice as he leaned down into the interior, reaching his paw down to grab the aluminum handle on a small, rounded metal box. He pulled himself back up into a sitting position, gazing at the box in his paws. After a moment, he pushed a claw into the keyhole, prodding around until it clicked, and the lock releasing its hold on the lid of the container.

Lifting the lid gingerly, he studied the contents of the box, from its useless knick-knacks to its overtly sentimental objects. His whole life and more was in that small metal box, and as he reached his paw into the interior to gently retrieve a worn, beaten wallet held together by rubber bands and duct tape, he gently turned around to look at Judy. She was staring at him cautiously, her lavender eyes darting between him and the secret compartment with worry drawn across her face. "What's all down there?" she asked as the fox inched closer.

"Just things," he replied, setting the metal box down by the chair's legs, holding onto the wallet with his other paw. Nick was now kneeling in front of her, his eyes slightly below hers, as he snapped the rubber bands off the wallet and handed it to her. "Stuff I couldn't afford to lose." Judy accepted the offered object gingerly, her ears flopping back against her back as she stared at it. Slowly, she opened it up, revealing two pictures of the fox in front of her; one being his smug, lazy smile on his driver's license, and the other was a beaten newspaper clipping with three foxes in handcuffs.

"That's them - Gramps, Mom and me," Nick said quietly, his voice barely audible above the rain. His paw had come up to point them out, though he knew she could probably guess. The picture had often been a reminder of what mammals would always think of foxes, but now it didn't really look like anything. An expression of fear stared back at him in the form of his younger self, and it wiped away what faint smile still resided on his face. Nick looked up to see Judy's wide eyes studying the picture, her nose twitching wildly as a paw came up to her face. "Lovely picture isn't it?" he asked.

Judy's paw trailed back down to the clipping, her padless fingers running over the image of his mother. "Your mother is really beautiful," she whispered, looking up at him only to find he was staring at the picture sadly.

"Yeah... She was," Nick replied flatly. After a moment of staring, his eyes slid back up Judy's chest to meet her gaze. Her nose was twitching again, but this time her expression betrayed the grief that she felt for the knowledge he had just given her. "It's the only picture I have of her." Nick's eyes fell back onto the picture with distaste, his brow furrowing as he gestured at it with his paw in exasperation. "Nothing but slander I chopped out of a newspaper."

One of her paws shot out to grab onto his arm lightly, and she leaned towards him with sad eyes. "What happened to all the rest?"

Nick did not answer. He just sat staring at the wallet in her lap with his brow furrowed. His lidded eyes did not take on their usual look of indifference, and had grown wary, even exhausted, as the conversation went on. After what felt like a long time, the fox's paw rose up to be placed on the one Judy had on his arm, enveloping it gently. "Can I ask you a quid pro quo?" he asked, his emerald eyes rising to meet her gaze carefully.

Her other paw rose to grab him by the shoulder, leaning even closer towards him. "Of course," she reassured him, searching his eyes for any sign that he didn't believe her.

Nick nodded slowly. "Do you remember why you wanted to do this quid pro quo?"

Judy seemed taken aback by the question, her brow furrowing on her forehead as she thought about it. For a moment, she just stared into his eyes, and he could tell she was wondering why he would ask a question like that. "Because I wanted to know more about you than nothing at all," she replied quietly.

Nodding again, Nick's eyes dropped away from her. Carefully, he pried her paws off of him as he got up, walking away from her. The fox sauntered over to the edge of the container, weaving his paws together behind his back as he gazed out into the falling water. "Alright," he said flatly. "I think it's time we bring it to an end."

He could feel her gaping at him from the chair, though he did not look at her. "What?" she asked, her voice laced with both confusion and worry.

"It was an exchange, right?" he asked, turning around to regard her with his lidded eyes, not even a ghost of a smile on his lips. "You tell me something about you, and then I tell you something about me." Nick waved one of his paws between them to accentuate his speech before weaving it back behind him. "You made it under the assumption that you would have to coerce, or even _buy_ , information out of me. I don't think we have to do that anymore." He watched her stunned expression for a moment, her nose twitching faster than he could ever remember her doing it before. "So, let's end it."

It took a moment for Judy to wrap her head around what he was saying, and slowly her ears perked up from their position of lying flat against her back. She put on her best confident expression, puffing out her chest. "Okay."

Nick nodded again, running his green eyes over her. How someone so strong and powerful could look so vulnerable, he did not know, but she was trusting what he was saying without question. It made that unfamiliar feeling bubble up again as he turned away from her. "This next thing isn't me wanting something in return now. It's not a part of some game. It's me wanting you to know." Nick let his words sink in for a moment as he prepared the one thing he never thought he would do. His piercing eyes slid closed and he took a deep breath. "More than wanting to know more about me, you wanted to know what I meant when I said I haven't had a home in twenty years, didn't you?"

She sucked in a sharp breath behind him. "Nick, you don't-"

"It's a long story," he said, cutting her off. Nick remained where he was standing, just before the protection of the rain with his back to her, eyes closed. "I don't think you'll be able to appreciate it unless I start from the beginning." Finally, he turned around to look at her, searching her expression. "Do you want to hear it?"

Judy's twitching nose slowed on her gaping face, the surprise of what he was implying taking her features completely. After a moment, she regained her composure and looked at Nick with worried eyes, but her nose did not twitch. It was still on her steady expression, and it drew his attention more than when it had been in perpetual motion. "Only if you want to tell me," she whispered out to him.

Nick smiled at her, his expression haggard in a way that only great sorrow and years of accumulated pain could muster. "I do," he replied.

Puffing out her chest, she sat up straight, giving him the most reassuring nod she could. "Then I want to hear it," she stated confidently, knowing full well what it meant.

The sad smile that spread across the fox's face saw cracks of genuine happiness. He didn't have anyone to share his life with, the troubled pieces of his past that put him on the path he had walked. But now he had Judy, and he wanted nothing more than to show her what he really looked like below the calculated masks and multiple personas. Nick finally felt like that not only did he finally have someone that _would_ listen to him, but he had someone that _wanted_ to listen to him, and that same unfamiliar feeling was there again, just below the surface. He looked away from her, out into the storm of rain.

"I wasn't actually born in the city; I was brought here at a very young age," he said plainly, settling into the past he had shunned for so long. It felt weird to hear it out loud, like it was some kind of secret that should never be said. Even stranger still was how _good_ it felt to finally talk about the past that he never put into words. "My father was a tailor out west, and he moved here with my mom to give me a shot at life. Out there, he could only find work at a tailory owned by a family friend, and foxes were not appreciated outside their tightly knit communities."

Nick watched the ripples in the pooling water. He watched the ribbons of water cascade from the sky. He watched anything in front of him so that he did not have to watch her face. It was no mystery to him how she would feel about his past. It was spotted with far too much pain to not guess her reaction, and he honestly didn't know if he could stand seeing it in her eyes. "So, he took my mother and me and moved here, where he opened up his very own tailor shop." Nick's eyes surveyed the lot in a quick motion, feeling the emptiness for the first time in a very long time. "'Wilde & Son's Suitopia', he called it. I guess he thought I'd grow up to be a tailor like him or something like that."

His eyes dropped back onto the ground, where his clawed toes hung off the edge, dangling above a rippling pool of water, his reflection distorted and noisy. "I don't remember him," he said flatly. The fox rolling his head around his shoulders in deliberation, staring into the noisy surface of the water as if it held the answers. "Vague stuff, sure, but his face is lost to me. When I was five years old, I caught a cold. A terrible fever that I had to be taken to the hospital for." When Nick spoke again, his voice dropped below a whisper, consisting of almost a faint droning noise that would be unintelligible if it weren't for Judy's large ears."When we got back, he was already gone."

The interior of the shipping container felt dead-silent despite the rattle of the rain hitting the metal walls and roof. For a moment, Nick believed he was alone it was so quiet, but he knew that Judy was right behind him, waiting for him to continue, and his eyes slid closed again."Some punk with a shotgun forced his way through the door. He took the register and left behind… Well, he left behind a whole lot." He kept his eyes closed, but he focused on listening to her breathing. "They found him strung out on morphine. Just another junkie robbing and killing innocents for _poison_... I still get letters from him, from time to time... groveling."

The way he bit out the last sentence made him pause and compose himself, forcing down his hackles and closing his bared lips. When he felt like he could continue, he began again in a soft tone. "We got by for awhile, just me and her," he said out into the falling water. "She ended up keeping the tailory, but we moved into a little apartment a couple blocks from here." He paused again as the memories of that small apartment came flooding back, the faintest glimpse of a smile returning to his face. "An old anteater lives there now. I went buy a couple years ago in a repairmammal's uniform, just to take a look around."

After a long moment, Nick shook his head slowly, the smile falling away once again. "Anyway, after the thing with the Junior Ranger Scouts happened, it all started to go downhill," he lamented, his eyes finally opening back up to the falling water in front of him. "Mom ended up working two or sometimes three jobs at a time, and finally we had to move back into the second floor of the tailory." Nick could clearly recall the look on his mother's face when they returned to the old building, seeing how she refused to look at the counter where she had seen her husband, mangled and limp. "She didn't like living there. She was always really scared of going in that front room."

"When I was nine, she collapsed during her night shift," he said over his shoulder, turning his head enough to make his voice clearly understandable without looking directly at her. He more looked off to the side, and he could only see a grey blur in his peripheral vision. "Lung cancer," he continued flatly. Nick's ears flattened back against his head as he thought, scoffing loudly with a shake of his head. "She didn't even smoke." Pausing again, he relived the day in his mind, allowing it to pass through him without sticking. "Like a lot of mornings, I got up and went to school on my own, not even knowing something had happened... They showed up while I was in class."

Again, the shipping container fell into a relative silence, neither of them speaking. By the sounds coming from behind him, he knew Judy's breaths were catching in her throat as she got more and more emotional. It seemed like he made her cry a lot. "I remember walking over to the principal's office wondering what it was that they lied about me doing _this time_ ," he said, pulling a paw up to smooth down his ears in an effort to make sure he remained composed. "And when I got there, two ZPD officers were waiting."

Nick finally turned around to look at her, and he was saddened by the look of shock written across her face. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she stared on in horror, unable to believe how someone could have so much bad luck. "She died when I was ten," he said flatly, studying her reaction. Judy sniffed loudly, bringing up a paw to try to wipe the tears away with the base of her palm. Nick looked away, strolling past her towards the back of the container. "Near the end, she couldn't stop crying. She thought she was abandoning me."

He finally stopped when he had reached the stacks of junk, looking up impassively at his life's work. "We had the funeral out west, where my father was buried," he said, picking up a broken lamp and turning it over in his paw. "Mom didn't know where else to put him." Nick's lips pulled up in hate as he tossed the lamp back onto a pile away from him, turning to give Judy a harsh expression. "That's when Gramps came into my life. I knew who he was, and he had - on occasion - visited, but that was it. I didn't know _what_ he was." A bad taste filled his mouth and he turned back towards the junk. "Arthur Wilde is a _murderer_. He's a psychopath that evaded incarceration."

"Back during prohibition, when Big's father was a small time hooch peddler, Arthur came looking for fame," Nick said, the story of his grandfather giving him no pleasure to recall. "He had followed in my great-grandfather's footsteps and became a moonshiner, making more money than you would believe. If it wasn't for him and his brother, the polar bears would still run this city. The leader of the mafia back then was a bear by the name of Boris Koslov, and my great uncle killed him. They were as criminal as they could possibly come, and _he_ was the one to raise me after Mom was gone."

Nick scoffed, glancing over at a cardboard box at the base of the piles of junk. It was filled with glass jars that held within them a clear liquid that glistened in the grey light of the storm. "After the funeral, the first thing he made me do was walk back to the city. You can imagine what that'd do to a mammal, burying your mother at the age of ten and then being forced to walk for four weeks back to your home." The fox shook his head slowly, remembering the long nights and days of walking, his tiny suit being torn to shreds the more miles he traveled. "When I got there, he had his hind paws up on the couch. It... didn't really get better after that."

The sound of the rain taped in the time it took for him to continue. "Sometimes, he would lock me out and make me find someplace to sleep on the streets," he said quietly. The memories came back to him in waves now, each one piling on top of each other. It had been so long since he had even thought about them, let alone really run through the events in his life. Despite that, he didn't feel sad about all of it, just numb. "Others, he would come up with these horrible ways to teach me some kind of life lesson. He taught me how to lie, cheat, steal, and _survive_."

For a long while he just studied the piles in front of him. When he had finally gotten his fill of seeing the clutter, he turned away from it, keeping his eyes focused on the floor so he could not see her face. "I still attended school until I was in my teens," he said, passing her swiftly so he could stand back on the edge of the shipping container, looking out into the diminishing storm. "Gramps always thought it was a waste of time, but I liked learning about things that didn't make me want to throw up. It ended up being that even though I was bullied pretty badly for being what I am, I liked it when I was in school far more than I did when I was at home."

Nick watched the cars pass by, sparkling lights of whites and reds trail down the streets and reflect off the water. "That continued for a while," he said flatly. "And I grew up pretty fast in that time. Again he could hear her sniffle, and again his ears were forced even lower on the back of his head. It wasn't pity; he had felt pity many times, and this wasn't it. She was genuinely saddened by what he was saying, and it made his reflection even more troubling. "By the time I was twelve, that little kit that wanted to be a Ranger Scout was gone. _He_ killed him. That didn't mean that I had turned into my grandfather, though. I _hated_ him… Still do."

The storm of water continued to lighten in front of him, the battering assault slowing to a crawl of droplets pattering across the soggy ground. "When I was twelve, something snapped in me, I guess," he whispered, the memory he had repressed for so many years feeling clearer than the day it had happened. "I just couldn't take it anymore. My life had been bad for almost four years, three of those a living nightmare, two of _those_ feeling like Hell on earth." Nick turned around to look at Judy's crying eyes, seeing the emotion bubbling up inside her as she shook on the chair lightly. "And I was done."

"He had locked me out again," Nick said nasally, his eyes darting over to an old door that sat just before the piles of junk, leaned up against the container's wall. He slowly started making his way over towards the door, passing Judy again. "And I waited." Coming to a stop just in front of the door, he studied the scorched edges, running his eyes over the dark smears, cracked paint, and smoke damage that covered the piece of wood and glass. "I waited for a long time just out of sight, downwind. I watched him leave, and I didn't move. I watched him walk down the street, and I didn't move. He was gone for a long time, and I still didn't move."

Slowly, Nick's paw trailed upwards, shaking slightly. It finally made contact with the glass, and the pads of his fingers traced the faded golden lettering written across it. "At some point, I had gotten up. I broke into the house, and I walked around and looked at everything. Just looked for a time." Something inside the fox screamed for him to stop. To leave the memory be. It wanted nothing more than to forget, but Nick would not allow himself to. It was a part of his story, and he wanted Judy to hear _all_ of it, to see who he really was. "After I was done with that, I gathered up all the liquor in the house and I torched the place."

A deathly silence spread across the interior of the shipping container. With the rain slowing even more in its attack, the silence felt all the more suffocating. Nick tore his eyes from the door to look at Judy, seeing the shock in her eyes. She had brought both of her paws up to cover her mouth, and she sat there, wide eyed, staring at his exhausted visage. Sighing loudly, he looked down at the floor, allowing his paw to drop back to his side. "I burned everything," he mumbled. "The pictures, the memories, all of it." After a while of staring at his feet, he passed Judy again to stand at the edge of the container.

"This is where the tailory used to stand," he informed her sadly, waving his paws out in front of him towards the rest of the lot. "Right here." Nick brought one of his clawed paws up to point at a rocky flat near one of the adjacent buildings. "Over there was the back entrance." His eyes fell on the corner of the street, trailing downward to another rocky spot just at the corner of the lot where the grass met the sidewalk. "Right on the corner there was a flight of steps that went up to the front door." Glancing up to the brickface of the building next door, his paw again gestured up the dark scorches on the wall. "It was as tall as the others. I honestly thought they would have cleaned the scars off the sides by now. Twenty years is a long time."

He turned his back on the lot, keeping his eyes on the floor as he weaved his paws behind his back. Slowly, he made his way towards the back of the container. He felt like he had been pacing, but the motion was helping him let the memories come without sticking. If he let them stick, he would feel even worse. "He came back to the fireball with me standing outside of it," he said as he passed her. "Just watching it all burn." When he reached the piled of junk again, he put his paws out in front of him to support his weight as he leaned into it, feeling even more tired. "He patted me on the shoulder, told me I had _finally_ learned, and then just walked away. I wouldn't see him for five more years, and by that time I was already well established in what I was doing."

Nick took another deep breath, feeling the story come to a close. "Since the day he walked off, I slept in the streets," he continued, closing his eyes again. The rain above had slowed even more, coming to his ears in a light drizzle. "I had already gotten some practice for it already, so it wasn't honestly that big of a change. For twenty years, I have been homeless." He opened his eyes, seeing a blue rucksack stacked on the pile in front of him. Nick swiped it off the stack rough, turning it over in his paw. "I kept all of my belongings either in here or in one of these bags, hidden throughout the city," he said sternly, gesturing around him before tossing the bag back over the collection. "The first couple years were hard, but after that it was a cakewalk of routine."

Turning around to look at her again, he could see the hurt in her eyes. In some strange way, she probably blamed herself that he had continued staying on the streets even after they had become friends. He thought she was probably kicking herself for not forcing the information out of him. "I started making money I just didn't know what to do with, so I bought more bags, and made more caches," he said, walking directly up to her. "When I was nineteen, the bank put this place up for sale, and I gave the money to a lawyer friend of mine to buy and keep hold of. I'd pay him the taxes every year, plus a little extra, and he'd keep it for me."

Nick kneeled down in front of the doe, reaching out with his large paws to grab onto hers, rubbing the pads of his thumbs across their backs, staring into her eyes. "It's been that way for a long time now. I had been doing the same thing every single day for virtually twenty years. I met Finnick when I was twenty-three, and we formed our partnership. We made a lot of money together." A genuine smile spread up the fox's muzzle, and he squeezed her paws lightly. "Then - one day - when we were trying to get our paws on a Jumbo Pop, a little grey bunny came through the door, and she showed me how I could be _better_ than that. And that's what I'm going to be."

Judy lunged into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face into his cream colored fur. The fox was surprised for a moment, but then he felt his features relax as she burrowed her nose deeper into his fur, and he brought up his arms to snake across her small back. "N-nick," she managed to say between sniffles, and he could feel the warm dampness of her tears soak all the way to his skin. "I d-don't know w-what to say-"

"Not yet, Fluff," he replied easily. Nick pushed her back to look in his eyes, taking one of his paws away to disappear inside his pocket. He used his other paw to cup her cheek, wiping away the tears with his thumb. As he stared into her sad eyes, the paw that went into his pocket came up between them, and in his grasp was a carrot shaped pen. "I'm not done." Judy couldn't believe her eyes, darting her deep amethyst orbs between the carrot and Nick with her mouth hanging open in shock. Slowly, she disentangled her arms from his neck and accepted the offered pen with shaky paws, holding it as if it could breath.

Pointing at the playback button, he watched her eyes light up and stare back down at the pen. Judy took a deep breath before pressing her padless thumb into the button, filling the space between them with the familiar scratching, electronic sound. _"Hey, Carrots, it's me… Nick."_ The fox's voice came clearly through the pen in her grasp, and she stared at it in awe. _"You know, as confident as I was about recording this thing, I don't actually know what to say. If you're getting this, then I guess that means I missed our phone call. I didn't mean to make myself a liar, I just didn't think through the promise. Truth is, I guess I might have bitten off more than I can chew this time."_

Judy's eyes snapped up to the fox inches from her face, and her nose started twitching endlessly as they searched each other's eyes, Nick gazing at her with his usual lidded smile, though now it looked genuine. _"I gave up control of the situation. I showed them my hand, and now it's their move. I've never been afraid of dying, despite how much energy I've put into staying alive. It's just this time I feel like I've got unfinished business, like I don't want to leave. I'm glad I met you, Carrots. If nothing else, you made it all worth it for this old fox. None of it seems so bad anymore if it means I got to meet you. I-"_

Before the rabbit could say anything, Nick's massive paws came up moved to clasp over hers as she held the pen. She looked at him blankly, her mouth moving without any words coming out, still trying to process the recording. "I couldn't remember what I was going to say at the end there, but I think I figured it out," Nick said quietly, gazing into her eyes. "It was 'I just wish I was a better mammal'." He held onto her paws between them tightly, and his green eyes fell down onto the jumbled mess of fingers and an orange pen. When he looked back up into her eyes, he saw the emotion bubbling over again, tears just on the brink of escaping her eyes. "I'm ready to be that mammal, if you'll help me."

She buried herself back into his neck in one swift motion, pulling her paws free to wrap around his head with need. "Of course I will," she whispered into his fur, her breath warming him to his core. "I'll _always_ be there. Trust me."

Nick smiled happily, wrapping his own arms around the bunny in front of him for a deep hug. His long neck allowed him to drape his head over her back, pressing down her long ears as he pulled her in deeper. "I do. I _do_ trust you," he whispered back.

They sat silently in each other's arms for a long while, Judy sitting down on the lawn chair and Nick kneeling in front of her. It took a long time for Judy to stop crying into his neck, and the fox was just happy to hold her close to him. He felt lighter than ever before. Now that he had laid his past out, and she still accepted him, a lightheaded feeling permeated through his mind. It was as if a tremendous weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and this two-and-a-half-foot bunny in his arms had been the one to do it. Nick had to wonder if he would ever be able to repay her for all she had done for him, but some part of him didn't mind the idea of being indebted to her for the rest of his life.

Judy buried her face even deeper into his fur, shaking her head from side to side as if she was burrowing into him. When she spoke, her hot breath was right on his skin, and muffled into the crook of his neck. "I'm sorry-"

"You have nothing to be sorry about," he said, cutting her off. Nick tried again to deepen the hug as far as he could without hurting her, but it still didn't feel close enough for him. Instead, his tail came out from behind him and wrapped around her hind paws that dangled off the edge of the chair. "Didn't I already say it in the recording? You made it _all_ worth it." Nick felt her flex her toes into the fur of his tail, and one of his arms trailed down her back to pull her stomach flat against him. "I would happily live through it a second time if it meant you would be there at the end." It eventually had to come to an end, though, and he felt her squirm in his hold, causing him to loosen his grip on her.

She pulled back only slightly, grabbing onto both of his shoulders and looking up into his piercing emerald eyes deeply, searching them for any hint of playfulness of insincerity, but found none. "That doesn't make it okay," she whispered, her eyes falling down on the damp, matter patch of fur she had made in the cream colored fur of his neck.

A reminiscent look captured the fox's eyes as he looked down at her. "It's not right to change the past," he replied, watching here beautiful eyes snap back up to meet his gaze. "It's what makes us who we are."

Judy smiled warmly at him, her paws sliding up from his shoulders to either side of his face. A long moment passed between them of just gazing into each other's eyes, drinking in the moment. Finally, much to Nick's disappointment, Judy's paws retracted back down to her pants, fishing into her pocket. "I have something for you," she said, beaming at him. What she brought out caught Nick off guard, and he traded his vision between Judy and the offered piece of folded paper.

With shaky paws, he took it from her, unfolding it carefully to reveal the police academy application that he had filled out all those months ago. His jaw dropped and his features ran slack as he studied the official looking paper, having trouble believing his eyes. "You kept it…" he said softly, an elated smile curling his lips upwards. Nick's eyes shot up to see her staring at him hopefully, and the smile that split his face grew even wider.

"That's funny," he said cheerfully, taking one of his paws away to disappear into his own pocket. The flexible, rectangular object that he pulled out to offer the bunny was actually a folded piece of paper itself. "I had something like this for you." Judy stared stunned silence at the piece of paper, carefully taking it from him to unfold it. When she saw that it was the same as the paper she had given him, she choked on her breath, a smile larger than he had ever seen shining brightly on her face. A paw had reflexively come up to cover her mouth, but it was wholly too slow to arrive in time before she threw herself back around his neck. "I think I'll keep this one, though," he mumbled into her ears.

Another long moment passed between them, but when Judy finally pulled away, she looked into his eyes pleadingly. "Oh, Nick," she begged, placing one of her paws on her chest. "Come live with me. I won't let you sleep on the streets anymore."

Nick's smile shrunk at the thought. He would like nothing more than to spend more time with her, but he had no intention of intruding on her home. He could clearly remember her saying that it was smaller than her room back at her warren, and that was a shoebox compared to most. "I can get a hotel until I find a place," he reassured her, tilting his head to the side.

"With the money you got hustling?" she asked, and Nick knew it would be better not to answer that question. She already knew what it was. "Nick, you're not supposed to have that." Judy pulled herself back into the hug, burying her nose into his shoulder. "Come live with me," she mumbled into his fur, her hot breath sending a shiver down his spin. "Just until you become a cop."

"What if I wash out?" he asked, returning the hug.

"You won't," she replied, completely sure of what she was saying. "I know you won't."

Nick still wasn't sure. If his moving in would mean even the slightest bit of an inconvenience, he did not think he should do it. Still, the thought of waking up somewhere comfortable and _warm_ , near someone he actually _cared_ about was alluring, but he had to be sure he wouldn't cause her any grief. _Who am I kidding?_ he thought. _I'm a fox moving in with a bunny, she would get grief no matter what I did_. Nick searched her eyes, hoping to find an ounce of reluctance. He found no such luck. His only pause now was a story she had told him almost a week ago. "I thought you said you couldn't sleep with predators around?"

She snorted into him, the reverberation sending another shiver down his spine. Judy pulled away slowly, maintaining their connection, and looked into his eyes, begging. "Did I have any trouble sleeping in the loft?" she asked, looking deep into his reluctant eyes. "Nick…" A tiny grey paw rose up to touch the side of his muzzle, and despite himself he found that he was leaning into her touch, gazing into her eyes. "Please."

After a long moment, he sighed. "Alright, Carrots," he replied, nodding his head with a hopeful smile. "Let's go home."

Outside the shipping container, the light drizzle had taped off completely, and the rain stopped falling on the city for the first time in days. From the stop where the fox and bunny were tangled together, they could see the clouds roll around in the sky, creating cracks between the blotches of grey and black. Shimmering streaks of amber light reached down into the city, and as Judy stuck herself back into him, Nick looked out at the first rays of sunshine he had seen in what felt like the longest week he had ever lived. The storm had finally broken, and the warmth of the sun once again radiated across the city.

The smile that spread up the fox's muzzle as he shut his eyes and buried his own head into hers was one of unbelievable relief. Twenty years was all it had to be. It may have been a long, and incredibly dark time, but his shining future would be the penance for his gloomy past. Like the rain, it was fleeting, and the sun's rays always found a way to shine through the darkness eventually.

And that's exactly what had happened. Judy was _his_ ray of sunshine, the first to break the storm's iron grip on his reality and crack its solid face, bringing with her other rays of sunshine that made him feel _alive_ again. He was finallyfree, and it was all because of _her_.

THE END

 **Author's Notes:**

 **Much like Nick, as confident as I was to write this post-credit note, I don't actually know what to say. So instead of saying something profound and heartfelt, lets just jump into the numbers and see if I get there on my own. As of the time I am writing this Quid Pro Quo has gotten 184 reviews, 170 followes, 117 favorites, and a whopping 24,000 views! I don't think I can express how suprised I am. It's deeply humbling to know so many people read and enjoyed my work. When I started, it was just as a neat little project, and now it's a 230,000 word story. It blows my mind, it really does.**

 **What can I say except I am grateful for every single one of you. I may not have done this for the feedback, but it helped me through many chapters, and it gave me the motization to continue. I never expected this much, and the idea that people from all over the world had read my tiny little fic is astounding. I may not be the best writer in the world, but I'm glad it was enough to entertain. In writing this, I have learned a lot, too. I cannot stress enough how happy I am for all of the positive feedback. Thank you. Each and every one of you. Even the simple follow warms my day.**

 **Here's to all of you.**

 **Quid Pro Quo might be ending, but the story of Nick and Judy (as well as my adventure into writing) continues. I'll see you all in the next story.**


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